have never seen, or
one like it. I will describe it to you. This griddle was a round piece
of iron, quite thick, having three legs. It might have been made in a
blacksmith's shop, for I have never seen one like it before or since.
It was placed upon the coals, and with an old iron spoon she put on
this griddle half of the corn meal she had mixed up. She said, "I will
put a tin plate over this, and put it away for your breakfast." We
five children were eagerly watching the pot boiling, with the pease
and ham-bone. The rain was pattering on the roof of the hut. All at
once there came a knock at the door. My mother answered the knock.
When she opened the door, there stood a white woman and three little
children, all dripping with the rain. My mother said, "In the name of
the Lord, where are you going on such a night, with these children?"
The woman said, "Auntie, I am travelling. Will you please let me stop
here to-night, out of the rain, with my children?" My mother said,
"Yes, honey. I ain't got much, but what I have got I will share with
you." "God bless you!" They all came in. We children looked in wonder
at what had come. But my mother scattered her own little brood and
made a place for the forlorn wanderers. She said, "Wait, honey, let me
turn over that hoe cake." Then the two women fell to talking, each
telling a tale of woe. After a time, my mother called out, "Here, you,
Louise, or some one of you, put some fagots under the pot, so these
pease can get done." We couldn't put them under fast enough, first one
and then another of us children, the mothers still talking. Soon my
mother said, "Draw that hoe cake one side, I guess it is done." My
mother said to the woman, "Honey, ain't you got no husband?" She
said, "No, my husband got killed in the war." My mother replied,
"Well, my husband died right after the war. I have been away from my
little brood for four years. With a hard struggle, I have got them
away from the Farrin plantation, for they did not want to let them go.
But I got them. I was determined to have them. But they would not let
me have them if they could have kept them. With God's help I will keep
them from starving. The white folks are good to me. They give me work,
and I know, with God's help, I can get along." The white woman
replied, "Yes, Auntie, my husband left me on a rich man's plantation.
This man promised to look out for me until my husband came home; but
he got killed in the war, and the Yank