Us plantation was jes' east from Pacolet Station on Thicketty Creek, is Spartanburg County, in South Carolina. Dat near Little and Big Pacolet Rivers on de route to Limestone Spring, and it jes' a ordinary plantation with de main crops cotton and wheat.  I 'long to de Lipscomb and my mamma, Maria Ezell , she 'long to 'em, too. Old Ned Lipscomb was 'mongst de oldest citizens of dat county. I's born dere on July 29th, in 1850 and I be 87 year old dis year. Levi Ezell , he my daddy, and he 'long to Landrum Ezell , a Baptist preacher. Dat young massa and de old massa, John Ezell , was de first Baptist preacher I ever heared of. He have three sons. Landrum and Judson and Bryson . Bryson have gif' for business and was right smart of a orator.  Dey's fourteen niggers on de Lipscomb place. Dey's seven of us chillen, my mamma, three uncle and three aunt and one man what wasn't no kin to us. I was oldest of de chillens, and dey called Sallie and Carrie and Alice and Jabus and Coy and LaFate and Rufus and Nelson . "Old Ned Lipscomb was one de best massa in de whole county. You know den old patterrollers, dey call us 'Old Ned's free niggers,' and sho' hate us. Dey cruel to us, 'cause dey think us have too good a massa. One time dey cotch my uncle and beat his most to death.  Us go to work at daylight, but us wasn't 'bused. Other massas used to blow de born or ring de bell, but massa, he never use de horn or de whip. All de man folks was 'lowed raise a garden patch with tobaccy or cotton for to sell in de market. Wasn't many massas what 'lowed dere niggers have patches and some didn't even feed 'on enough. Dat's why dey have to git out and hustle at night to git food for dem to eat.  De old massa, he 'sisted us go to church. De Baptist church have a shed built behind de pulpit for cullud folks, with de dirt floor and split log seat for de women folks, but most de man folks stands or kneels on de floor. Dey used to call dat de coop. De white preacher back to us, but iffen he want to he turn 'round and talk to us awhile. Us makes up songs, 'cause us couldn't read or write. I 'member dis one: 'De rough, rocky road what Moses done travel, I's bound to carry my soul to de Lawd; It's a mighty rocky road but I mos' done travel And I's bound to carry my soul to de Lawd.' "Us sing 'Sweet Chariot,' but us didn't sing it like dem days. Us sing: 'Swing low, sweet chariot. Freely let me into rest, I don't want to stay here no longer; Swing low, sweet chariot. When Gabriel make he las' alarm I wants to be rollin' in Jesus arm. 'Cause I don't want to stay here no longer.' Us sing 'nother song what de Yankees take dat tune and make a hymn out of it. Sherman army sung it, too. We have it like dis: 'Our bodies bound to mortar and decay Our bodies bound to mortar and decay. Our bodies bound to mortar and decay. But us souls go marchin' home.'  Befo' de war I jes' big 'nough to drap corn and tote water. When de little white chillen go to school 'bout half mile. I wait till noon and run all de way up to de school to run base when dey play at noon. Dey sev'ral young Lipscombs , dere Smith and Bill and John and Nathan , and de oldest son, Elias .  In dem days cullud people jes' like mules and hosses. Dey didn't have no last name. My mamma call me after my daddy's massa, Ezell , Mamma was de good woman and I 'member her more dance once rockin' de little cradle and singin' to de baby. Dis what she sing:  Milk in de dairy mine days old. Sing-song Kitty, can't you ki-me-o? Frogs and skeeters gittin' mighty bol? Sing-song, Kitty, can't you ki-me-o? Kino, kino, darro, wharro. With me hi, me ho: In come Sally singin' Sometime penny winkle. Lingtum cip cat. Sing-song, Kitty, can't you ki-me-o? Dere a frog live in a pool. Sing-song, Kitty, can't you ki-me-o? Sure he was de bigges' fool. Sing-song, Kitty, can't you ki-me-o For he could dance and he could sing Sing-song, Kitty, can't you ki-me-o? And make de woods aroun' him ring Sing-song, Kitty, can't you ki-me-o?'

Old massa didn't hold with de way some mean massas treat dey niggers. Dere a place on our plantation what us call 'De old meadow.' It was common for runaway niggers to have place 'long de way to hide and res' when dey run off from mean massa. Massa used to give 'em somethin' to eat when dey hide dere. I saw dat place operated, though it wasn't knowed by dat den, but long time after I finds out dey call it part of de 'Underground railroad.' Dey was stops like dat all de way up to de north. We have went down to Columbia when I 'bout 11 year old and dat where de first gun fired. Us rush back home, but I could say I heared de first guns of de war shot, at Fort Sumter. When Gen'ral Sherman come 'cross de Savannah River in South Carolina, some of he sojers come right 'cross us plantation. All de neighbors have brung dey cotton and stack it in de thicket on de Lipscombs place. Sherman men find it and set it on fire. Dat cotton stack was big as a little courthouse and it took two months' burnin'.  My old massa run off and stay is de woods a whole week when Sherman men come through. He didn't need to worry. 'cause us took care of everythin'. Dey a funny song us make up 'bout him runnin' off in de woods. I know it was make up, 'cause my uncle have a hand in it. It went like dist 'White folks, have you seed old massa Up de road, with he mustache on? He pick up he hat and he leave real sudden And I 'lieve he's up and gone. 'Old massa run away And us darkies stay at home. It mus' be now dat Kingdon's comin' And de year of Jubiles. 'He look up de river and he seed dat smoke Where de Lincoln gunboats lay. He big 'nuff and he old 'nuff and he orter know better. But he gone and run away. 'Now dat overseer was to give trouble And trot us 'round a spell. But we lock him up in de smokehouse cellar. With de key done throwed in de well.' Right after dat I start to be boy what run mail from camp to camp for de sojers. One time I capture by a bunch of deserters what was hidin' in de woods 'long Pacolet River. Dey didn't hurt me, though, but dey mos' scare me to death. Dey parole and turn me loose. All four my young massas go to de war, all but Elias . He too old. Smith , he kilt at Manassas Junction. Nathan , he git he finger shot at de first round at Fort Sumter. But when Billy was wounded at Howard Gap in North Carolina and dey brung him home with he jaw split open, I so mad I could have kilt all de Yankees. I say I be happy iffen I could kill me jes' one Yankee. I hated dem 'cause dey hurt my white people. Billy was disfigure awful when he jaw split and he teeth all shine through he cheek.  After was over, old massa call us up and told us we free but he 'vise not leave de place till de crop was through. Us all stay. Den us select us homes and move to it. Us folks move to Sam Littlejohn's , north of Thicketty Creek, where us stay two year. Den us move back to Billy Lipscomb , de young massa, and stay dere two more year.

I's right smart good banjo picker in dem day. I kin 'member one de songs jes' as good today as when I pick it. Dat was: 'Early in de mornin' Don't you hear de dogs a-barkin'? Bow, wow, wow 'hush, hush, boys Don't make a noise. Mamma's fast a-sleepin'. Run to de barnyard Wake up de boys Let's have banjo pickin'. 'Early in de mornin' Don't you hear de roosters crowin'? Cock-a-doodle-do. I come in contac' with de Klu Klux. Us lef' de plantation in '65 or '66 and by '68 us was havin' sich a awful time with de Klu Klux. First time dey come to my mamma's house at midnight and claim dey sojers done come back from de dead. Dey all dress up in sheets and make up like spirit. Dey groan 'round and say dey been kilt wrongly and come back for justice. One man, he look jus' like ordinary man, but he spring up 'bout eighteen feet high all of a sudden. Another say he so thirsty he ain't have no water since he been kilt at Manassas Junction. He ask for water and he jes' kept pourin' it in. Us think he sho' must be a spirit to drink dat much water. Course he not drinkin' it, he pourin' it in a bag under he sheet. My mamma never did take up no truck with spirits so she knowed it jes' a man. Dey tell us what dey gwine do iffen we done all go back to us massas and us all 'grees and den dey all dis'pear. Den us move to New Prospect on de Pacolet River, on de Perry Clintons ' place. Dat in de upper edge of de county and dat where de second swarm of de Klu Klux come out. Dey claim dey gwine kill everybody what am Repub'can. My daddy charge with bein' a leader 'mongst de niggers. He make speech and 'struct de niggers how to vote for Grant's first 'first 'lection. De Klu Klux want to whip him and he have to sleep in a holler log every night. Dey's a old man name Uncle Bart what live 'bout half mile from us. De Klu Klux come to us house one night, but my daddy done hid. Den I hear dem say dey gwine go kill old man Bart . I jump out de window and out short out through dem wood and warn him. He git out de house in time and I save he life. De funny thing, I knowed all dem Klu Klux. Spite dey sheets and things, I knowed dey voices and dey saddle hosses. Dey one white man name Irving Ramsey . Us play fiddle together lots of time. When de white boys dance dey allus wants me to go to play for dey party. One day I say to dat boy. 'I done knowed you last night.' He say. 'What you mean?' I say. 'You one dem Klu Klux.' He want to know how I know. I say, 'Member when you go under de chestnut tree and say, "Whoa, Sont, whoa, Sont, to your hoss?" He say, 'Yes,' and I laugh and say. 'Well, I's right up in dat tree.' Dey all knowed I knowed den, but I never told on den. When dey seed I ain't gwineter tell, dey never try whip my daddy or kill Uncle Bart no more.  I ain't never been to school but I jes' picked up readin'. With some my first money I ever earn I buy me a old blue-back Webster. I carry dat book wherever I goes. When I plows down a row I stop at de end to rest and den I overlook de lesson. I 'member one de very first lessons was, 'Evil communications 'rupts good morals.' I knowed de words 'evil' and 'good' and a white man 'splain de others. I been done use dat lesson all my life.  After us left de Pacolet River us stay in Atlanta a little while and den I go on to Louisiana. I done lef' Spartenburg completely in '76 but I didn't git into Texas till 1882. I fin'lly git to Brenham, Texas and marry Rachel Pinchbeck two year after. Us was marry in church and have seven chillen. Den us sep'rate. I been batching 'bout 20 year and I done los' track mos' de chillen. My gal, Lula , live in Beaumont, and Will , he in Chicago. Every time I tells dose niggers I's from South Carolina day all say, 'O, he bound to make a heap.' I could be a conjure doctor and make plenty money, but dat ain't good. In slavery time day's men like dat 'garded as bein' dangerous. Day make charms and put bad mouth on you. De old folks years de rabbit foot or coon foot and sometime a silver dime on a fishin' string to keep off de witches. Some de old conjure people make lots of money for charm 'gainst ruin or cripplin' or dry up de blood. But I don't take up no truck with things like dat.

Seemingly far above the average in native intelligence, Lorenza Ezell , Beaumont negro, is an unusually interesting character. His voice is low pitched and well modulated, and his speech, although dialectic, reflects his association with people of refinement. Lorenza's eyes no longer focus as he speaks, flickering to the right or left, but his face has a kindly look. His round, bullet head, is almost hairless but his forehead is high. Between firm lips can be seen only about four huge yellow teeth, spaced far apart. Lorenza's parents were owned by two of the most prominent families of Spartanburg county, S.C., the Ezells and the Lipscombs . War events, the Ku Klux and many incidents of slavery are vividly recalled by the old negro. Lorenza came to Brenham, Texas, in 1882, and to Beaumont several years later. He lives alone in a small shack in an alley in a South-end settlement, overshadowed and almost completely hidden by vines and trees.

Us plantation was jes' eas' from Pacolet Station on Thicketty Creek in Spartanburg county, Sou'f Ca'lina. Dat was near Li'l and Big Pacolet Ribers on de rout' to 
Limestone Springs. It was jes' a ord'nary plantation wid de main crops, cotton and wheat. I b'long' to de Lipscombs and my mama Mariah Ezell , she b'long' to de Lipscombs too. Ol' Ned Lipscomb , dat de marster, he was 'mongst de ol'es' citizens of Spratanburg county. I was bo'n in Spartanburg in 1850 on July 29th. Folks 'roun' yere say dey fixin' to gimme a an'vers'ry party on de twenty-nint' and ag'in nex' year. I be 87 year' ol' dis year.

Levi Ezell he was my daddy. He b'long' to Landrum Ezell , a Baptis' preacher. Dat was young marster. De ol' marster, John Ezell , was de fus' Baptis' preacher I ebber hear of. Dey was t'ree of ol' man John ' sons Landrum , Judson , and Bryson . Bryson he hab a gif' for business and he was right smart of a orater too. Dey was fo'teen niggers altogedder on de Lipscomb place. Dey was seben of us chillen, my mammy, t'ree uncle' and t'ree aunt' an one man w'at he buy w'at warn't no kin to us. I was de ol'es' of de chillen. Den dey was t'ree sisters, Sallie , and Carrie , and Alice , and five brudders, Jabus , and Coy and LaFate and Rufus and Nelson dat de baby. Dey was two bo'n atter slav'ry. Ol' Ned Lipscomb was one of de bes' marsters in de whole county. You know w'at de patterrollers was? Dey call us 'Ol' Ned's free niggers' and dey sho' hate us. Dey was cruel to us 'cause dey t'ink us hab too good a marster. One time dem patterrollers caught one of my uncle' and beat him 'mos' to dea'f (death). Us go to wuk at daylight but us warn't 'bused. Other marsters uster blow a ho'n or ring a bell to mek dem git up to git to wuk, but ol' marster he nebber use needer ho'n nor whip. He nebber whip' nobudy. I 'member one time he whip' one of my aunt' but she so mean she jes' hafter be whip'. Dat de onlies' time I ebber know him to whip anybudy. He switch' me w'en I jes' a chile, but he got to likin' me so good, dat he didn' whip me but w'en I git in debblement, he tell my mammy to whip me. She was mo' stricter on me dan he was. "All de men folks on de place was 'low' to raise li'l garden patch' wid t'baccy or cotton for to sell in de market. Dat was t'rough de cultivatin' season. Warn't many marsters w'at 'low dere niggers hab patches and some didn' eben feed dem 'nuff. Dat's why dey hafter git out and hustle at night to git 'nuff for dem and dey folks to eat. Iffen dey didn' git caught dey try it ag'in. Us niggers sol' dere garden truck to buy deyse'fs Sunday clo's for chu'ch, combs and breshes and all sich's dat. De ol' marster he 'sisted on us gwine to chu'ch. Us nebber did hear of any other 'nominations 'sides de Baptis' Chu'ch. De Baptis' chu'ch hab a shed buil' behin' de pulpit for de cullud folks. It hab a dirt flo' and split log seat w'at us mek for de wimmen folks but mos' of de men folks stan' or kneel down on de flo'. Dey uster call dat de 'Coop.' De w'ite preacher' back to us, but iffen he want to he tu'n 'roun' and talk to us aw'ile.  Dey was lots of chu'ch songs w'at de cullud folks mek deyse'fs. Dey warn't outen no books 'cause us couldn' read nor write. Dey say lots of dem song' like 'Mazin' Grace' and 'Am I bo'n to die?' was tuk up by de w'ite folks later on. Some dem ol' songs is 'mos' forgot. I 'member one w'at go like dis 'De rough, rocky road w'at Moses done trabble, I's boun' to carry my soul to the Lawd. It's a mighty rocky road but I 'mos' done trabble it And I's boun' to carry my soul to de Lawd.' Us sing 'Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,' but dey didn' sing it like dey does dese days. Us sing:'Swing low, sweet chariot Freely let me into res', Becase I don' wanter stay yere no longer. Swing low, sweet chariot W'en Gabriel mek his las' alarm, I want to be rollin' in Jesus' arm', Becase I don' wanter stay yere no longer. "'Be sho' and put it 'becase' insteder 'because,' 'cause us didn' say because,' us said 'becase.' Us didn' say 'then' us said 'den.' Us said 'dem' and 'dose' and 'dese' and 'wid' and 'hab' and 'an' and 'uster' and 'gwine' and 'gwineter' and all like dat. Some mo' dem songs was: We'll camp aw'ile in the wilderness, We'll camp aw'ile in the wilderness, We'll camp aw'ile in the wilderness, An' den I's gwine home.'k  Anudder was: 'Say brudders will you meet me, Say brudders will you meet me, Say brudders will you meet me, On Canaan's happy shore? Den dey was: 'Our bodies boun' to morter and decay, Our bodies boun' to morter and decay, Our bodies boun' to morter and decay, But us souls go marchin' home.

De Yankees tek dat chune (tune) and mek a war hymn outn' it, (Battle Hymn of the Republic). Sherman ' army sing it, but dey say: 'Hang Jeff' Davis on a sour apple tree, And den us go marchin' home. Befo' de war I was jes' big 'nuff to drap co'n and tote water. W'en de li'l w'ite chillen go to school 'bout a ha'f a mile 'way, I wait 'til 'bout noon den I run all de way up dere to de school house to 'run base' w'en dey play at noon. De way us play dat 'base' game was to git nine chillen on each side. Den dey draw a 'dare line' and dare dem to cross it. Iffen dey ketch you, you hafter be on dey side. Us young w'ite folks allus want me dere on dey side 'cause I could run so fas'. I uster play marbles lots too. I uster be sich a marble shooter I can't 'member much 'bout anyt'ing else.  Dey was sev'ral of dem young Lipscombs . Elias , dat de ol'es' boy, hab chillen ol'er dan me. Den dey was Smith and Bill and John and Nathan . I can't 'member de gals, on'y Tina . I los' trace of dem. In dem days cullud people was jes' like mules and hosses, dey didn' hab no name, dat is, dey didn' hab no las' name. Dey call' de men slaves by dere marster' las' name. Dat why my mudder call me Lorenza Ezell . My mudder was de onlies' one w'at hab lots of chillen. She was a good woman. I kin 'member her mo' dan once rockin' de li'l cradle and singin' to de baby. Dis w'at she sing: 'Milk in de dairy nine days ol', Sing song Kitty can't you ki-me-o? Frogs and skeeters gittin' mighty bol' (bold) Sing song Kitty can't you ki-me-o? (Chorus) Keemo, kimo, darro, wharro, Wid me hi, me ho And in come Sally singin' Sometime penny winkle Lingtum, nip cat, Sing song Kitty can't you ki-me-o? Dere was a frog live in a pool Sing song Kitty can't you ki-me-o? Sure he was the bigges' fool Sing song Kitty can't you ki-me-o (Repeat chorus) For he could dance and he could sing Sing song Kitty can't you ki-me-o? And mek de woods aroun' him ring Sing song Kitty can't you ki-me-o? Ol' marster didn' hol' wid de way some of de mean marsters treat' dey niggers. Dere was a place on us plantation w'at us call' "De ol' Meadow." It was common for run-'way niggers to hab place 'long de way to hide and res' w'en dey run off from mean marster'. Marster uster give dem sumpin' to eat w'en dey hide dere. I saw dat place operated 'though it wasn' knowed by dat den. Atter dat, I fin' out dey call it part of de 'Undergroun' railroad.' Dey was stops like dat all de way up to de Nor'f. We hab went down to Columbia w'en I 'bout 'leben year' ol' and dere w'ere de fus' gun was fire'. Us rush back home. I guess I could say I hear' de fus' guns of de war shat at Fort Sumter. W'en Genr'l Sherman come 'cross de Savannah Riber in Sou'f Ca'lina, some of his sojers come right 'cross us plantation. All de neighbors hab brung dey cotton and stack it in de thicket on de Lipscomb ' place. Sherman ' men fin' it and sot it on fire. Dat cotton stack was big as a li'l co'thouse (courthouse) and it tuk two mont's a-burnin.

My ol' marster run off and stay in de woods a whole week w'en Sherman' men come t'rough. He didn' need to worry 'cause us tek care of eb'ryt'ing. Dey was a funny song w'at us mek up 'bout him runnin' off in de woods. I know it was mek up 'cause my uncle hab a han' in it. It went like dis: 'W'ite folks hab you seed ol' marster Up de road wid he mustache on? He pick up he hat and he lef' real suddent And I b'leeb he's up and gone. Ol' marster run away And us darkies stay at home It mus' be now dat de Kingdom's comin' And de year of Jubilee. He look up de ribber and he seed dat smoke W'er de Lincoln gunboats lay He big 'nuff and he ol' 'nuff and he orter know better But he gone and run away. Now dat overseer want to give trubble, And trot us 'roun' a spell, But we lock him up in de smokehouse cellar Wid de key done throwed in de well.

Right atter dat I start' to be boy w'at run de mail from camp to camp for de sojers. One time I was capture' by a bunch of deserters w'at was hidin' in de woods 'long Pacolet Riber. Dey didn' hurt me though, but dey mos' scare' me to dea'f. Dey pay'role me and tu'n me loose. All fo' (four) my young marsters go to de war, all but Elias . He was too ol'. Smith , he was kill' at Manassas Junction. Nathan git he finger shot, at de fus' 'roun' at Fort Sumter. He all bandage' up w'en he come home on furlo'. But w'en Billy was wounded at Howard' Gap in Nor'f Ca'lina, and dey brung him home wid he jaw split open, I so mad I could hab kill' all de Yankees. I say I be happy if I could kill me jes' one Yankee. I hate dem 'cause dey hurt my w'ite people. Billy was disfigerin' awful w'er he jaw split and he teef (teeth) all shine t'rough he cheek. Atter de was was over ol' marster call' us up and tol' us we's free. He advise us not to leave de place 'til atter de crop was t'rough. Us all stay. Den us selec' us homes and move to it. Us folks move' to Sam Littlejohn's , nor'f of Thicketty Creek, w'er us stay two year'. I was growin' up 'bout dat time and dey kep' puttin' it on me 'til I done men's wuk.

Us move' back to Billy Lipscomb ', de young marster, and stay dere two mo' year'. I's right smart good banjo picker in dem day. Dey's one of dem songs I kin 'member jes' as good today as w'en I pick it. Dat was 'Early in de mawnin' Don' you hear de dogs a-barkin'? (Bow, wow, wow) Hush, hush, boys Don' mek a noise Massa's fas' a'sleepin'. Run to de barnyard Wake up de boys Let's hab banjo pickin'. Early in de mawnin' Don' you hear dem roosters crowin'? (Cock-a-doodle-do)  I come in early contack wid de Klu Klux. Us lef' de plantation in '65 or '66, and by '68 us was habin' sich a awful time wid de Klu Klux. Fus' time dey come to my mudder's house at midnight. Dey claim' dey's de sojers done come back from de dead. Dey all dress' up in sheets and mek up like sperrit. Dey groan 'roun' and say dey been kill' wrongly, and come back for jestice. One man he look jes' like ord'nary man, but he spring up 'bout eighteen feet high all of a suddent. Anudder say, he so thirsty, he ain' hab no water since he been kilt at Manassa' Junction. He ax for water and he jes' kep po'in' it in. Us thought he sho' mus' be a sperrit, to drink dat much water. Co'se he warn't drinkin' it, he was po'in' it in a bag under he sheet. My mudder nebber did tek up no truck wid sperrit so she knowed it was jes' a man. Dey tell us w'at dey gwine to do iffen we don' all go back to our marsters. Us all 'gree and den dey all dis'pear. Den us move to New Prospect on de Pacolet Riber on de Perry Clemmon's place. Dat was in de upper edge of de county. Dat's w'er de secon' swarm come out. Dey claim dey gwine kill eb'rybudy claim Republican. My papa was charge' wid bein' a leader 'mongst de niggers. He mek speech and give 'structions to de niggers on how to vote for Grant's fus' 'lection. De Klu Klux wanter whip him. He hafter sleep in a holler log eb'ry night. Dey's a ol' man name' Uncle Bart w'at lib 'bout ha'f a mile from us. De Klu Klux come to us house one night, but my daddy done hid. Den I hear dem say dey gwine go kill ol' man Bart . I jump out de winder and cut short cut t'rough dem wood and warn him. He git out he house in time and I sabe (save) he life. De funny t'ing was dat I knowed all dem boys. 'Spite dey sheets and t'ings I knowed dey voices and dey saddle hosses. Dey was one young w'ite man name' Irving Ramsey. Us play de fiddle togedder lots of time'. W'en de w'ite boys hab a dance dey allus want me to go. Co'se I didn' dance but I play for all dey party. One day I say, 'I done knowed you las' night. He say, 'W'at you mean?' I say, 'You one dem Klu Klux.' He wanter know how I know. I say, 'Member w'en you go under de chestnut tree and say, 'Whoa, Sont, whoa, Sont,' to yo' hoss? He say, 'Yes,' and I laugh and say, 'Well, I's right up in dat tree. Dey all knowed dat I knowed dem den, but I nebber tol' on dem. W'en dey seed I ain' nebber gwineter tell on dem dey nebber try whip my daddy or kill Uncle Bart no mo. I ain' nebber been to no school in my life, but I jes' pick up readin' myse'f. Wid some my fus' money I ebber earn', I buy me a ol' Blue-back Webster. I carry dat book eb'ryw'er I go. W'en I plow down a row I stop at de en' to res'. Den I overlook de lesson. I 'member one de bery (very) fus' lesson' was, 'Evil communications corrputs good morals.' By dat time I knowed jes' two dem words, 'evil' and 'good,' but I couldn' git dem big ones. I go to a w'ite man and ax him to he'p me. He 'splain' it all to me. I been done use dat lesson all my life. It jes' as fresh in my mem'ry today as den. I he'p cut de fus' logs for de fus' free school house for de cullud chillen at Spartanburg county. I's a growed up young man befo' I ebber seed a deck of cyards (cards). My ol' w'ite folks was Christian people. Some de w'ite folks shoot dice, 'chuck-a-luck' and 'high-dice', bofe play' wid t'ree dice. De niggers tuk dat up atter freedom. It was 'bout 1863 w'en I seed two men on a pine log and dey's playin' a game dey call '5-up' for money. Dey's a crowd 'roun' dem watchin'. Atter dey quit dey game dey go off and leabe de cyards on dat log. Dem was 'bout de mos' 'tractive li'l t'ings I ebber see. Dem cyards sure did hab plenty pictures on dem. I's sho' 'tempt' to put dem in my picket. De nex' gamblin' game I knowed anyt'ing 'bout, was call' 'Geogia-skin.' Dat was ol' tuppentine camp game, play in Geogia and Al'bama. To play, you draw 'gainst de banker. You tek yo' cyard and put up yo' money, den de banker draw. High man tek de money. Atter us lef' de Pacolet Riber us stay in Atlanta, Geogia a li'l w'ile and den I go on to Lou'sana. One day 'bout 1876, I's in Morgan City and dere I seed my fus' 'crap game.' I's jes' a stranger and walkin' 'long I seed dem down on dey knees tossin' out jes' two dice and sayin' one t'ing and anudder. Here I been jes' fresh down from Atlanta and I ain' nebber seed nuthin' like dat. I say, 'Wha' dat?' And dey say, 'Dat call' 'crap' done lef' Spartanburg completely in '76, but I didn' git into Texas 'til 1882. I fin'lly git to Brenham, Texas. I marry Rachel Pinchbeck two year' atter I git dere. She bo'n in Montgom'ry county. Us was marry in chu'ch and hab seben chillen. Den us sep'rate. She been marry twict since us sep'rate and she lib yere in Beaumont now.  been 'batchin' 'bout 20 year' and I done los' track mos' dem chillen. My gal, Lula , lib in Beaumont, and Will , he in Chicago. Anudder son was in Arizona at my las' communication. Eb'ry time I tells dese niggers I's from Sou'f Ca'lina dey all say, 'O, he boun' to know a heap.' I could be a conjure doctor and mek plenty money but dat ain' good. Dey's jes' mos'ly fake. In slav'ry time dey's men like dat 'garded as bein' dangerous. Dey mek charms and put 'bad mou'f' on you. Iffen some de ol' folks p'int dey finger at you, it scare' you to dea'f. You mos' likely go git all de neighbors to go beg dem not put no bad trubble on you. De ol' folks wear a rabbit foot or a 'coon foot, and sometime a silver five cents or a dime on a fishin' string to keep off de witches. Some dem ol' conjure people mek lots money for charm' 'gainst ruin, cripple', or dry up de blood