r dem carpet-baggers dan de Niggers. I lived right in
'mongst 'em, but I wouldn' tell. No Ma'm! I knowed 'em, but I dasn'
talk. Sometimes dey would go right in de fiel's an' take folks out an'
kill 'em. Aint none of 'em lef' now. Dey is all dead an' gone, but dey
sho' was rabid den. I never got in no trouble wid 'em, 'cause I tended
my business an' kep' out o' dey way. I'd-a been kilt if I'd-a run 'roun'
an' done any big talkin'.

"I never knowed Marse Linc'um, but I heard he was a pow'ful good man. I
'members plain as yesterd'y when he got kilt an' how all de flags hung
at ha'f mas'. De Nawth nearly went wil' wid worryin' an' blamed
ever'body else. Some of 'em even tried to blame de killin' on Marse
Davis. I fit wid de Yankees, but I thought a mighty heap o' Marse Davis.
He was quality.

"I guess slav'ry was wrong, but I 'members us had some mighty good
times. Some marsters was mean an' hard but I was treated good all time.
One thing I does know is dat a heap of slaves was worse off after de
War. Dey suffered 'cause dey was too triflin' to work widout a boss. Now
dey is got to work or die. In dem days you worked an' rested an' knowed
you'd be fed. In de middle of de day us rested an' waited for de horn to
blow to go back to de fiel'. Slaves didn' have nothin' turrible to worry
'bout if dey acted right. Dey was mean slaves de same as dey was mean
marsters.

"Now-a-days folks don' live right. In slav'ry times when you got sick a
white docter was paid to git you well. Now all you gits is some no-count
paten' medicine. You is 'fraid to go to de horspital, 'cause de docters
might cut on yo' stummick. I think slav'ry was a lot easier dan de War.
Dat was de debbil's own business. Folks what hankers for war don' know
what dey is askin' for. Dey ain' never seen no bloodshed. In war-times a
man was no more dan a varmint.

"When my white folks tol' us us was free, I waited. When de sojers come
dey turnt us loose lak animals wid nothin'. Dey had no business to set
us free lak dat. Dey gimme 160 acres of lan', but twant no 'count. It
was in Mt. Bayou, Arkansas, an' was low an' swampy. Twant yo' lan' to
keep lessen you lived on it. You had to clear it, dreen it, an' put a
house on it.

"How I gwine-a dreen an' clear a lot o' lan' wid nothin' to do it wid?
Reckon somebody livin' on my lan' now.

"One of de rights of bein' free was dat us could move 'roun' and change
bosses. But I never cared nothin' 'bout dat.

"I hear someb