at man Duncan, he say us gwina hol'
fun'al rites over dat dog. He say us Niggers might better be's pow'ful
sad when us come to dat fun'al. An' dem Niggers was sad over de death o'
dat poor old dog what had chased 'em all over de country. Dey all stan'
'roun' a-weepin' an' a-mournin'. Ever' now an' den dey'd put water on
dey eyes an' play lak dey was a-weepin' bitter, bitter tears. 'Poor old
dog, she done died down dead an' can't kotch us no more. Poor old dog.
Amen! De Lawd have mercy!'

"De Judge was a great han' for 'tainment[FN: entertainment]. He always
had a house full o' folks an' he sho' give 'em de bes' o' food an'
likker. Dey was a big room he kep' all polished up lak glass. Ever' now
an' den he'd th'ow a big party an' 'vite mos' ever'body in Mississippi
to come. Dey was fo' Niggers in de quarters what could sing to beat de
ban', an' de Judge would git 'em to sing for his party.

"I 'member how 'cited I'd git when one o' dem shindigs 'ud come off. I
sho' would strut den. De mistis 'ud dress me up an' I'd carry de likker
an' drinks' roun' 'mongst de peoples. 'Would you prefer dis here mint
julip, Marster? Or maybe you'd relish dis here special wine o' de
Judge's. 'Dem white folks sho' could lap up dem drinks, too. De Judge
had de bes' o' ever'thing.

"Dey was always a heap o' fresh meat in de meat house. De pantry fairly
bu'sted wid all kin' o' preserves an' sweetnin's. Lawdy! I mean to tell
you dem was de _good_ days.

"I 'member I used to hate ever' Wednesday. Dat was de day I had to
polish de silver. Lawsy! It took me mos' all day. When I'd think I was
'bout th'ough de mistis was sho' to fin' some o' 'dat silver dat had to
be did over.

"Den de war broke out. De marster went 'way wid de sojers an' gradual'
de hardness come to de plantation.

"Us never knowed when dem Yankee sojers would come spen' a few weeks at
de Big House. Dey'd eat up all de marster's vit'als an' drink up all his
good likker.

"I 'member one time de Yankees camped right in de front yard. Dey took
all de meat out'n de curin' house. Well sir! I done 'cide by myse'f dat
no Yankee gwina eat all us meat. So dat night I slips in dey camp; I
stole back dat meat from dem thievin' sojers an' hid it, good. Ho! Ho!
Ho! But dey never did fin' dat meat.

"One time us sot fire to a bridge de Yankees had to cross to git to de
plantation. Dey had to camp on de other side, 'cause dey was too lazy to
put out de fire. Dat's jus' lak I figgered it.