ris, an ex-slave, just past ninety-three years of age lives
with his daughter, Hannah, 70 years old, on the farm of Mrs. Alice
Davison a few miles west of Marvell, Arkansas. The two of them have just
completed, within the last few days, the harvesting of a small crop of
cotton and corn, and Abram was found in a small thicket not far from
their cabin where he was busily engaged in cutting some firewood for
their winter use. A small tree had been felled and the old man was
swinging his axe with the strength and enthusiasm of one far younger
than he as the wood was being cut to the proper length for his heater.
Interrupted at my approach, Abram laid aside the axe and greeted me with
that courtesy so characteristic of an ex-slave. After stating the
purpose of my visit, the old negro apparently pleased at this
opportunity afforded him to rest and talk, sat on the body of the newly
cut tree and told me the following story:

"Yes sir, Cap'n, my name is Abram Harris and I is jist past ninety-three
year old. En cose I knows dat I don't look dat old en all de folks sey
dat I acts er heap younger dan my age iffen I really is old as I claims,
en I kin still wuk bettern heap dese young uns, kase I is always knowed
how ter wuk. My old Boss Man teach me de tricks. He war er wukker
he-self, en eberybody hed ter roll roun Old Marster. He neber low no
lazy pussen ter stay wid him. Yes sir, Cap'n, I sho has kept up wid my
age eber since dat time when Old Marster tole me how ole I is. Yo kin
see dat I is er old nigger, kase dese here whiskers so white en de hair
on my haid so white too. When ye see dat on er nigger yo kin know dat he
er old pussen right off. I gwine ter tell yo, how cum dat I sho knows
how old I is. Er heap er niggers, dey tell yo dat dey is so en so year
old when dey aint no sich er thing en dey don't know dey age, but I
does, en hit wus jes dis er way.

"I wus borned en raised in South Carolina not fur from Greenville en my
Old Marster whut I belonged ter, wus Marse Hodges Brown, en my young
Marster he wus Marse Hampton, en me en Marse Hampton wus sho born in de
same mont en de same year, en de mont, hit wus October, en dats zackly
whut Old Marster tole me, en Marse Hampton sed dat same thing. Us wus
boys togedder, me en Marse Hampton, en wus jist er bout de same size, en
Marse Hampton, he claimed me, en I gwine ter be his property when bofe
us grown. Dat is iffen de war not cum on en Marse Hampton hadn't er got
kilt in