l I got to de house. It was my young master's saddle horse.

"Yas'm, I knowed dey was a war 'cause de men come past just as thick.
No'm, I wasn't afraid. I kept out of de way. Old missis wouldn't let
us get in de way. I 'member dey stopped dere and told us we was free.
Lots of de folks went off but my mother kept workin' in de field, and
my father didn't leave.

"Old master had us go by his name. Dat's what dey called 'em--all de
hands on de place.

"I thought from boyhood he was awful cruel. Didn't 'low us chillun in
de white folks' house at all. Had one woman dat cooked. Dey was fifty
or a hundred chillun on de place and dey had a big long trough dug out
of a log and each chile had a spoon and he'd eat out of dat trough.
Yas'm, I 'member dat. Eat greens and milk. As for meat, we didn't know
what dat was. My mother would go huntin' at night and get a 'possum
to feed us and sometimes old master would ketch her and take it away
from her and give her a piece of salt meat. But sometimes she'd bury a
'possum till she had a chance to cook it. And dey'd take sackin' like
you make cotton sacks and dye it and make us clothes.

"When de conch would blow at four o'clock every mornin' everybody got
up and got ready for de field. Dey'd take dere chillun up to dat big
long house. When mother went to de field I'd go along and lead de
horse till I got to where dey was workin', then I'd sit down and let
the horse eat. I was young and it's been so long.

"No ma'am, I never went to school. No ma'am, can't read or write.
Never had no schools as I remember.

"Dey stayed on de place after freedom. No ma'am, dey did not pay 'em.
I'se old but I ain't forgot dat. Dey fed theirselves by stealin' and
gettin' things in de woods.

"After dem Blue Jackets come in dere General Bradford never did come
back and our folks stayed dere and when dey did leave dey went to
Sunflower County. After dat we got along better.

"How many brothers and sisters? I b'lieve I had five.

"I stayed with my parents till I was grown. No ma'am, dey didn't 'low
us to marry. When we was twenty we was neither man nor boy; we was
considered a hobble-de-hoy. And when we got to be twenty-one we was
considered a man and your parents turned you loose, a man. So I left
home and went to Louisiana. I stayed dere a year, then I went back to
Mississippi and worked. I come here to Arkansas twenty-six years ago.
Is dis Jefferson? Well, I come here to de west end.

"Since I be