Mis' Betsy had a big place, a big place, - an' raise cotton an' corn mostly. Course she has cows, an' chickens an' lots of garden truck too, an' she sure feed us good, - jes' what she eat herself. Yes suh, we has everything on de place what de heart could wish for. We has a house in de yard jes' back of de big house an' my folks is all de slaves she has. Mamma do de cookin' an' de rest of us work in de fields an' do what else dey is to do 'round de place. Soon as I gets old nuff, pappy learns me how to chop cotton an' how to thin out de corn. I sure was mighty little when pappy carry me out to de field de first time. Course Mis' Betsy did' do nothin' 'bout de overseein', she let young Marster John McNeese what I told you was de stepson, do de bossin'. He sure would get mean some times, an' whip us mostly with peach tree switches. Mose, dat was my oldest brother, use to run away if Marster John whip too hard, an' I 'members one time he run off and hid in de woods for three weeks. 'Course he slip up to the place at night an' get somethin' to eat, 'cause mamma would put a big tin of food outside our quarters on a bench soon it get dark, an' in de mornin' jes de tin plate was left. He comes back 'bout three weeks after he runs off, an' young Marster John come to our place an' see him, an' grabs him an' ties his hands an' feet an' den drags him to a tree an' ties him up. Den' he comes back an' makes me light a candle an' makes my brother James get a tub to hold in front of de candle so de wind don't blow it out, an' he gets a buggy whip an' we goes back to de tree whar Mose is tied up. I holds de candle so Marster John can see, an he takes de shirt offen Mose, an' starts in to lashin' him. Law me, he cuts his back to pieces, but we don' dare say nothin', 'cause he'd lashed us he was so mad. Um - Um - when I 'members dat night, I gets de shivers yet. But Mis' Betsy was sure good to us. We didn't darst say nothin' 'bout no switchin' an' whippin' what Marster John would give us, 'cause he'd whip us soon he cotch us in de field. On Sunday we go to church up to Marster Millers ' place, whar de school was. Dat school was whar de quality white folks sent de daughters. It sure was a big place, an' dey comes from all over to 'tend de school. 'Course when we goes to de church with Mis' Betsy , we can't go in de yard whar de school is at, but I'se seen de young Misses, what 'tend de school lots of times, an' dey sure was quality, yes suh! Law me, things sure is dif'frunt, now. De schools gone an' it's jes' farms 'round dere now 'cause I live 'round Gay Hill all my life 'ceptin 'bout ten years ago when my daughter Savannah, what I lives with, brought me here to Houston.

Yes suh, we stays on with Mis' Betsy 'til dey read pappy de freedom papers. Lots of times we see de soldiers goin' to de Confederate War. Dey had a camp down close to Fisher's Church, what was de Union Baptist Church on de old Washington road. We see 'em drill an' go way, an' 'nother batch come an' drill an' go way, jes' one after 'nother. Mis Betsy she always sendin' stuff to de camp, an' mamma work so hard cookin' up stuff, it kill her. I 'members old Mack what was a colored preacher an' what belong to de Millers , he preach de funeral, an' when we start for de buryin' ground over beyond whar de school is at, I 'members seein' Mis' Betsy standin' on de gallery of de big house, wipin' her eyes an' wavin' her hand goodbye to Mamma. When we gets back from de buryin' ground, I'se out in de quarters an' cryin', an' Marster John comes out an' tells me to shut up, an' jes' 'cause I coudn't right off, he gives me a whippin' with a gun rod what he had with him. I guess de reason he was so mean was 'cause I hear pappy say he was a 'paddy-roller!' You know what dey was? Dey was white folks what go 'round watchin' slaves, an' if dey catch one off de place whar he belong an' he don't have no pass, dey lash him maybe fifty or a hundred licks. Sometimes a colored man on one plantation has a wife what is on a'nother plantation, an' his marster gives him a pass to see her on Thursday an' Saturday night, den de 'paddy-rollers' can't do nothin' to him. But if he slips 'way some night to go see her, an' don't have no pass, an' de Paddy-rollers cotch him, dey sure lay him out an' give him a lashin'. One mornin', Marster John calls pappy to de house an' reads him de freedom papers, but says if pappy will stay with de rest of us an' gather de crop, he'll give him a load of corn an' three hogs. We stayed and gathered de crop, but I never saw de corn or de hogs what he promised pappy. Den pappy moved to 'nother place an' we worked for Jackson Hill what lived on de other side of Washington road. He sure was a good man an' so was Mis' Hill , an' dey has other colored folks what belonged to 'em 'fore freedom, an' one of de young men was Edward Hill what I married. De Lord blessed de fruit of our marriage with 'leven children, but dey is all dead 'ceptin' three. Dere was Nancy , an' Judy , an 'Lena , an Wayne , an' Eddie , an' Green , an' Robert , an' Tenny , an' Savannah , an' two what died 'fore dey was named. De old folks is droppin' out mighty fast, an' some of de young ones too, but I tells my daughter Savannah what I lives with, dat de Lord will take care of you if you always tell de truth, - tell de truth if you don't have nothin', tell de truth