fine
folks all-a-way round, 'cause my paw said them that raised him was good
to they niggers.

"Old Marse never 'lowed none of his nigger families separated. He 'lowed
he thought it right and fittin' that folks stay together, though I heard
tell of some that didn't think so.

"My Missus was just as good as Marse Bob. My maw was a puny little woman
that wasn't able to do work in the fields, and she puttered round the
house for the Missus, doin' little odd jobs. I played round with little
Miss Sallie and little Mr. Bob, and I ate with them and slept with them.
I used to sweep off the steps and do things, and she'd brag on me and
many is the time I'd git to noddin' and go to sleep, and she'd pick me
up and put me in bed with her chillun.

"Marse Bob didn't put his little niggers in the fields till they's big
'nough to work, and the mammies was give time off from the fields to
come back to the nursin' home to suck the babies. He didn't never put
the niggers out in bad weather. He give us something to do, in out of
the weather, like shellin' corn and the women could spin and knit. They
made us plenty of good clothes. In summer we wore long shirts, split up
the sides, made out of lowerings--that's same as cotton sacks was made
out of. In winter we had good jeans and knitted sweaters and knitted
socks.

"My paw was a shoemaker. He'd take a calfhide and make shoes with the
hairy sides turned in, and they was warm and kept your feet dry. My maw
spent a lot of time cardin' and spinnin' wool, and I allus had plenty
things.

"Life was purty fine with Marse Bob. He was a man of plenty. He had a
lot of land and he built him a big log house when he come to Texas. He
had sev'ral hundred head of cattle and more than that many hawgs. We
raised cotton and grain and chickens and vegetables, and most anything
anybody could ask for. Some places the masters give out a peck of meal
and so many pounds of meat to a family for them a week's rations, and if
they et it up that was all they got. But Marse Bob allus give out
plenty, and said, 'If you need more you can have it, 'cause ain't any
going to suffer on my place.'

"He built us a church, and a old man, Kenneth Lyons, who was a slave of
the Lyon's family nearby, used to git a pass every Sunday mornin' and
come preach to us. He was a man of good learnin' and the best preacher I
ever heard. He baptised in a little old mudhole down back of our place.
Nearly all the boys and gals gits con