r dat sort of
wuk and Marster let her do odd jobs 'round de big house. De most I seed
her doin' was settin' 'round smokin' her old corncob pipe. I was named
for Grandpa Billy, but I never seed him.

"Mistess, does you know what you'se axin'? Whar was slaves to git money
whilst dey was still slaves? Dere warn't but a few of 'em dat knowed
what money even looked lak 'til atter dey was made free.

"Now, you is talkin' 'bout somepin sho 'nough when you starts 'bout dem
victuals. Marse Joe, he give us plenty of sich as collards, turnips and
greens, peas, 'taters, meat, and cornbread. Lots of de cornbread was
baked in pones on spiders, but ashcakes was a mighty go in dem days.
Marster raised lots of cane so as to have plenty of good syrup. My pa
used to 'possum hunt lots and he was 'lowed to keep a good 'possum hound
to trail 'em wid. Rabbits and squirrels was plentiful and dey made
mighty good eatin'. You ain't never seed sich heaps of fish as slaves
used to fetch back atter a little time spent fishin' in de cricks and de
river.

"De kitchen was sot off from de big house a little piece, but Old
Marster had a roof built over de walkway so fallin' weather wouldn't
spile de victuals whilst dey was bein' toted from de kitchen in de yard
to de dinin' room in de big house. I don't reckon you ever seed as big a
fireplace as de one dey cooked on in dat old kitchen. It had plenty of
room for enough pots, skillets, spiders, and ovens to cook for all de
folks on dat plantation. No, mam, slaves never had no gardens of deir
own; dey never had no time of deir own to wuk no garden, but Old Marster
fed 'em from his garden and dat was big enough to raise plenty for all.

"De one little cotton shirt dat was all chillun wore in summertime den
warn't worth talkin' 'bout; dey called it a shirt but it looked more lak
a long-tailed nightgown to me. For winter, our clothes was made of wool
cloth and dey was nice and warm. Mistess, slaves never knowed what
Sunday clothes was, 'cept dey did know dey had to be clean on Sunday. No
matter how dirty you went in de week-a-days, you had to put on clean
clothes Sunday mornin'. Uncle John Craddock made shoes for all de grown
folks on our plantation, but chillun went barfoots and it never seemed
to make 'em sick; for a fact, I b'lieves dey was stouter den dan dey is
now.

"Marse Joe McWhorter and his wife, Miss Emily Key, owned us, and dey was
jus' as good to us as dey could be. Mistess, you knows white