call de
hans in en outen de fiel's. Dey hed horns whut dey blowed early en late.
De wuk wud go on till hit so dark dat dey can't see. Den de horn wud
blow en de niggers all cum in en git dey supper, en cook dey ash cakes
in de fire whut dey build in dey own cabins. Boss Man, is yo eber et er
ash cake? I don't 'spects dat yo know how ter mek one er dem ash cakes.
I gwine ter tell yo how dat is done. Fust yo git yo some good home groun
meal en mix hit well wid milk er water en a liddle salt an bakin'
powder whut yo mek outen red corn cobs, den yo pat dem cakes up right
good en let 'em settle, den put 'em in de hot ashes in de fireplace en
kiver 'em up good wid some mo hot ashes en wait till dey done, en Boss
Man, yo sho is got er ash cake dat is fitten ter eat. Dats de way dat us
made 'em in slabery times en de way dat us yit meks 'em. Us didn't know
whut white bread wuz in de old days, hardly, 'ceptin sometimes 'roun de
marster's kitchen er nigger wud git er hold of er biscuit. All de bread
dat de slabe niggers git wud be made outen cornmeal er dem brown shorts
whut de marsters gib 'em in de rashions.

"Us wuz all well fed do in slabery times en kept in good fat condition.
Ebery once in er while de marster wud hab er cow kilt en de meat
'stributed out mongst de folks en dey cud always draw all de rashions
dat dey need.

"Dey used ter hab dem big corn shuckin's too in de old days. De corn wud
be piled up in er pile es big es er house en all de han's wud be
scattered out roun' dat pile er corn shuckin' fas' as dey cud, en atter
dey done shucked dat pile er corn, ole marster wud hab two big hogs kilt
en cooked up in de big pots en kittles, en den dem niggers wud eat en
frolic fer de longes', mekin music wid er hand saw en er tin pan, en er
dancin', en laffin, en cuttin' up, till dey tired out. Dem wuz good
days, Boss Man. I sho wish dat I cud call dem times bak ergin. De
marsters whut hed de big places en de slabe niggers, dey hardly do no
wuk er tall, kase dey rich wid niggers en lan', en dem en dey famblies
don't hab no wuk ter do, so de old marsters en de young marsters, dey
jes knock erbout ober de country on dey hosses, en de young misses en de
old misses, dey ride er bout in de fine kerrige wid de coachman er doin'
de drivin'. Dey hab de oberseers ter look atter de mekin er de crops,
so de bosses, dey jes sort er manage, en see dat de bizness go on de
right way.

"De marsters en de misses, dey look atter dere nigg