h, Texas.

"White man, dis old cullud woman am not strong. 'Bout all my substance
am gone now. De way you sees me layin' on dis bed am what I has to do
mos' de time. My mem'randum not so good like 'twas.

"De place I am borned am right near Atlanta, in Georgia, and on dat
plantation of Massa John Blackshier. A big place, with 'bout 150 growed
slaves and 'bout 50 pickininnies. I doesn't work till near de surrender,
'cause I's too small. But us don't leave Massa John, us go right on
workin' for him like 'fore.

"Massa John am de kind massa and don't have whuppin's. He tell de
overseer, 'If you can't make dem niggers work without de whup, den you
not de man I wants.' Mos' de niggers 'have theyselves and when dey don't
massa put dem in de li'l house what he call de jail, with nothin' to eat
till deys ready to do what he say. Onct or twict he sell de nigger what
won't do right and do de work.

"Us have de cabin what am made from logs but us only sleeps dere. All us
cookin' done in de big kitchen. Dere am three women what do dat, and
give us de meals in de long shed with de long tables.

"To de bes' of dis nigger's mem'randum, de feed am good. Plenty of
everything and corn am de mostest us have. Dere am cornbread and
cornmeal mush and corn hominy and corn grits and parched corn for drink,
'stead of tea or coffee. Us have milk and 'lasses and brown sugar, and
some meat. Dat all raise on de place. Stuff for to eat and wear, dat am
made by us cullud folks and dat place am what dey calls se'f-s'portin'.
De shoemaker make all de shoes and fix de leather, too.

"After breakfas' in de mornin' de niggers am gwine here, dere and
everywhere, jus' like de big factory. Every one to he job, some
a-whistlin', some a-singin'. Dey sings diff'rent songs and dis am one
when deys gwine to work:

"'Old cotton, old corn, see you every morn,
Old cotton, old corn, see you since I's born.
Old cotton, old corn, hoe you till dawn,
Old cotton, old corn, what for you born?'

"Yes, suh, everybody happy on massa's place till war begin. He have two
sons and Willie am 'bout 18 and Dave am 'bout 17. Dey jines de army and
after 'bout a year, massa jine too, and, course, dat make de missy awful
sad. She have to 'pend on de overseer and it warn't like massa keep
things runnin'.

"In de old days, if de niggers wants de party, massa am de big toad in
de puddle. And Christmas, it am de day for de big time. A tree am fix,
and some present for