onday come, he would knock all bout like he had forget, but
toreckly he would call you up en he would sho work on you. Pa say, 'I'm
not gwine let you catch me in no lie. When I tell you I gwine cut you, I
gwine do it.' Miss, I is had my mother to hurt me so bad till I would
just fall down en roll in de sand. Hurt! Dey hurt, dat dey did. Wouldn'
whip you wid no clothes on neither. Would make you pull off. Yes, mam, I
could sniffle a week, dey been cut me such licks. Thought dey had done
me wrong, but dey know dey ain' been doin me wrong en I mean dey didn'
play wid me."

"Miss, I think folks is livin too fast in de world today. Seems to me
like all de young people is worser, I say. Well, I tell you, dey be
ridin out all times of night en girls meetin up wid Miss Fortune. At
least, our colored girls does. En don' care what dey do neither. Don'
seem to care what dey do nor how dey do. De girls nowadays, dey gets dey
livin. Girls settin higher den what dey makes demselves dese days."

Source: Josephine Bristow, colored, 73 years, Marion, S. C.
Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Jan., 1938

Project #1655
W. W. Dixon
Winnsboro, S. C.

ANNE BROOME
EX-SLAVE 87 YEARS OLD.

"Does you recollect de Galloway place just dis side of White Oak? Well
dere's where I was born. When? Can't name de 'zact year but my ma say,
no stork bird never fetch me but de fust railroad train dat come up de
railroad track, when they built de line, fetched me. She say I was a
baby, settin' on de cow-ketcher, and she see me and say to pa: 'Reubin,
run out dere and get our baby befo' her falls off and gets hurt under
them wheels! Do you know I believed dat tale 'til I was a big girl? Sure
did, 'til white folks laugh me out of it!

"My ma was name Louisa. My marster was Billie Brice, but 'spect God done
write sumpin' else on he forehead by dis time. He was a cruel marster;
he whip me just for runnin' to de gate for to see de train run by. My
missus was a pretty woman, flaxen hair, blue eyes, name Mary Simonton,
'til she marry.

"Us live in a two-room plank house. Plenty to eat and enough to wear
'cept de boys run 'round in their shirt tails and de girls just a
one-piece homespun slip on in de summer time. Dat was not a hardship
then. Us didn't know and didn't care nothin' 'bout a 'spectable
'pearance in those days. Dats de truth, us didn't.

"Gran'pa name Obe; gran'ma, name Rachel. Shoes? A child never hav