clare. Atter us got dere and he seed dat green 'bacco had done
made us so sick us couldn't eat, he jus' couldn't beat us. He jus'
laughed and said: 'It's good enough for you.'

"Aunt Martha, she done de milkin' and helped Aunt Nancy cook for de
slaves. Dey had a big long kitchen up at de big house whar de overseer
lived. De slaves what wuked in de field never had to do deir own
cookin'. It was all done for 'em in dat big old kitchen. Dey cooked some
of de victuals in big old washpots and dere was sho' a plenty for all.
All de cookin' was done in big fireplaces what had racks made inside to
hang pots on and dey had big old ovens for bakin', and thick iron
skillets, and long-handled fryin' pans. You jus' can't 'magine how good
things was cooked dat way on de open fire. Nobody never had no better
hams and other meat dan our Marster kept in dem big old smokehouses, and
his slaves had meat jus' lak white folks did. Dem cooks knowed dey had
to cook a plenty and have it ready when it was time for de slaves to
come in from de fields. Miss Ellen, she was the overseer's wife, went
out in de kitchen and looked over evvything to see that it was all right
and den she blowed de bugle. When de slaves heared dat bugle, dey come
in a-singin' from de fields. Dey was happy 'cause dey knowed Miss Ellen
had a good dinner ready for 'em.

"De slave quarters was long rows of log cabins wid chimblies made out of
sticks and red mud. Dem chimblies was all de time ketchin' fire. Dey
didn't have no glass windows. For a window, dey jus' cut a openin' in a
log and fixed a piece of plank 'cross it so it would slide when dey
wanted to open or close it. Doors was made out of rough planks, beds was
rough home-made frames nailed to de side of de cabins, and mattresses
was coarse, home-wove ticks filled wid wheat straw. Dey had good
home-made kivver. Dem beds slept mighty good.

"Dere warn't many folks sick dem days, 'specially 'mongst de slaves.
When one did die, folks would go 12 or 15 miles to de buryin'. Marster
would say: 'Take de mules and wagons and go but, mind you, take good
keer of dem mules.' He never seemed to keer if us went--fact was, he
said us ought to go. If a slave died on our place, nobody went to de
fields 'til atter de buryin'. Marster never let nobody be buried 'til
dey had been dead 24 hours, and if dey had people from some other place,
he waited 'til dey could git dar. He said it warn't right to hurry 'em
off into de ground too qu