When de Yankees come to see iffen dey had done turn us a-loose. I am a nine year old nigger gal. That make me about 81 now. Dey promenade up to de gate and de drum say a-dr-um-m-m-m-m, and de man in de blue uniform he git down to open de gnte. Old massa he see dem comin' and he runned in de house and grab up de gun. When he come hustlin' down off de gallery, my daddy come runnin'. He seed old massa too mad to know what he a-doin', so quicker dan a chicken could fly he grab dat gun and wrastle it outten old massa's hands. Den he push old massa in de smokehouse and lock de door. He ain't do dat to be mean, but he want to keep old massa outten trouble. Old massa know dat, but he beat on de door and yell, but it ain't git open till dem Yankees done gone. I wisht old massa been a-livin' now, I'd git a piece of bread and meat when I want it. Old man Charley Bryant , he de massa, and Felice Bryant de missus. Dey both have a good age when freedom come. My daddy he George Price and he boss nigger on de place. Dey all come from Louisiana, somewhere round New Orleans and all dem li'l extra places. Liz'beth she my mama and dey's jus' two us chillen, me and my brudder. John , he lives in Beaumont. 'Bout all de work I did was 'tend to de rooms and sweep. Nobody ever 'low us to see nobody 'bused. I never seed or heared of nobody gittin' cut to pieces with a whip like some. Course, chillen wasn't 'lowed to go everywhere and see everything like dey does now. Dey jump in every corner now. Miss Flora and Miss Molly am de only ones of my white folks what am alive now and dey done say dey take me to San Antonio with dem. Course, I couldn't go now and leave Henry , noway. De old Bryant place am in de lawsuit. Dey say de brudder, Mister Benny , he done sharped it 'way from de others befo' he die, but I 'lieve the gals will win dat lawsuit. My daddy am de gold iplot on de old place. Dat mean anything he done was right and proper. Way after freedom, when my daddy die in Beaumont. Cade Bryant and Mister Benny both want to see him befo' he buried. Dey ride in and say, 'Better not you bury him befo' us see him. Dat's us young George .' Dey allus call daddy dat, but he old den. My mama was de spring back cook and turkey baker. Dey call her dat, she so neat and cook so nice. I's de expert cook, too. She larnt me.

Us chillen used to sing steal Don't steal my sugar. Don't steal, Don't steal my candy. I's comin' round de mountain.' Dey sho' have better church in dem days dan now. Us git happy and shout. Dey too many blind taggers now. Now dey say dey got de key and dey ain't got nothin'. Us used to sing like dis: Adam's fallen race, Good Lawd, hang down my head and cry. Help me to trust him, Help me to trust him, Help me to trust him, Gift of Gawd.  Help me to trust him, Help me to trust him, Help me to trust him, Eternal Life.  Had not been for Adam's race, I wouldn't been sinnin' today, Help me to trust him, Gift of Gawd.'  Dey 'nother hymn like dis:  Heavenly land, Heavenly land, I's gwineter beg Gawd, For dat Heavenly land.  Some come cripplin'. Some come lame, Some come walkin', In Jesus' name.' You know I saw you-all last night in my sleep? I ain't never seed you befo' today, but I seed you last night. Dey's two of you, a man and a woman, and you come crost dat bridge and up here, askin' me iffen I trust in de Lawd. And here you is today. Dey had nice parties in slavery time and right afterwards. Dey have candy pullin' and corn shuckin's and de like. Old Massa Day and Massa Bryant , dey used to put dey niggers together and have de prize dances. Massa Day allus lose, 'cause us allus beat he niggers at dancin'. Lawd, when I clean myself up, I sho' could teach dem how to buy a caks-walk in dem days. I could cut de pigeon wing, jes' pull my heels up and clack dem together. Den us do de back step and de banquet, too. Us allus have de white tarleton Swiss dress for dances and Sunday. Dem purty good clothes, too and dey make at home. Us knowed how to sew and one de old man's gals, she try teach me readin' and writin'. I didn't have no sense, though, and I cry to go out and play.

When freedom come old massa he done broke down and cry, so my daddy stay with him. He stay a good many year, till both us chillen was growed. Us have de li'l log house on de place all dat time. Dey 'nother old cullud man what stay, name George Whitehouse . He have de li'l house, too. He stay till he die. Dey was tryin' to make a go of it after de war, 'cause times was hard. De white boys, dey go out in de field and work den, and work hard, 'cause dey don't have de slaves no more. I used to see de purty, young white ladies, all dress up, comin' to de front door. I slips out and tell de white boys, and dey workin' in de field, half-naked and dirty, and dey sneak in de back door and clean up to spark dem gals. I been marry to dat Henry in dere sixty year, and he was a slave in Little Rock, in Arkansas, for Anderson Jones . Henry knowed de bad, tejous part of de war and he must be 'bout 96 year old. Now he am in pain all de time. Can't see, can't hear and can't talk. Us never has had de squabble. At de weddi n' de white folks brung cakes and every li'l thing. I had a white tarleton dress with de white tarleton wig. Dat de hat part what go over de head and drape on de shoulder. Dat de sign you ain't never done no wrong sin and gwinter keep bein' good. After us marry I move off de old place, but nothin' must do but I got to keep de house for Mister Benny . I's cleanin' up one time and finds a milk churn of money. I say, 'Mr. Benny , what for you ain't put dat money in de bank?' He say he will. De next time I cleanin' up I finds a pillow sack of money. I says, 'Mr. Benny , I's gwineter quit. I ain't gwineter be 'sp ible for dis money.' He's sick den and I put de money under he pillow and ready to go. He say, 'You better stay, or I send Andrew , de sheriff, after you.' I goes and cook's dinner and when I gits back dey has four doctors with Mr. Benny . He wife say to me, 'Liza , you got de sight. Am Benny gwine git well?' I goes and looks and I knowed he gwine way from dere. I knowed he was gone den. Dey leant on me a heap after dat. It some years after dat I leaves dem and Henry and me gits married and us make de livin' farmin'. Us allus stays right round hereabouts and gits dis li'l house. Now my son and me, us work de field and gits 'nough to git through on.

Smoking a vile smelling pipe of ancient vintage, Liza Jones sat upon a backless chair on the porch of her home in Liberty, while her elderly son stretched upon a blanket at her feet. Both were resting after a hard day's work in the field. Within the open door could be seen the pitiful figure of Henry Jones , her husband for 60 years, a tall, gaunt man who despite his gigantic frame, is helpless. Blind, deaf and almost totally speechless, the old man was unable to tell even one incident of his slavery days near Little Rock, Arkansas, although he was grown and married before the war was ended. Liza spent her time of servitude on the Bryant place, four miles from Liberty, and speaks of her white folks with the deepest affection. She is a spry little figure, appearing quite deformed because of oddly shaped hips, a huge mole on her chin and extra thick lower lip. The Jones homestead is reached by a devious route through a cemetery and across a ravine on a plank foot-bridge. When de Yankees come to see iffen dey had done tu'n us a-loose, I was a nine year ol' nigger gal. Dat mek me 'bout 81 year' ol'. Dey promenade' up to de gate and de drum say a-d-v-rrr-um-m-m, and de man in de blue unifo'm he git down to open de gate. Ol' marster he see dem a-comin' and he runned in de house and grab' up de gun. When he come down hustin' off de gallery my daddy come runnin'. He seed de ol' marster was too mad to knowed what he was a-doin'. So, quicker dan a chicken could fly up on de gallery he grab' dat gun and rastle it outen de ol' marster's han's. Den he push' de ol' marster in de smokehouse and lock' de do'. He ain' do dat to be mean but he wanter keep de ol' marster outen trouble. De ol' marster knew dat, but he beat on dat do' and yell, 'Open dat do', Nigger,' but it ain't git open 'til de Yankees done gone. Us li'l chillun out in de yard see all de promenadin' and think dat's de w'ite folks gittin' ready for a party. Dat's all us figure 'bout de war. Ol' marster mean? Shucks, I wisht he'd a been livin' now. I git a piece of bread and meat when I want it. Ol' man Charley Bryant was de marster. Felide Bryant was de mistus. Dey bofe had a good age when freedom come. Dey's only two of de young w'ite folks livin', dat Flora and Molly . Dey live in San Antonio. Nary one of dem ever git marry. My daddy was name' George Price . He was de boss nigger on de place. Dey all come from Lou'sana. Somewhere 'roun' New Yawlins, and all dem li'l extra places. Lizabeth she was my mama. Dey's jis' two of us chillun. My brudder, John Price , he live in Beaumont, he de ol'es' and me I's de baby chile. Bout all de wuk I could do was to 'tend to de rooms and sweep. Nobody ever 'low us to see nobody 'buse. I never see nor hear of nobody gittin' cut to pieces wid a whip like some. Course, chillun wasn' 'lowed to go ev'rywhere and see ev'rything like dey does now. Dey jump in ev'ry corner now. Miss Flora and Miss Molly dey done say dey comin' out to tek me back to San Antonio wid dem. Course, I couldn' go now and leave Henry no'way. De ol' Bryant place is in a lawsuit. Dey say de brudder, Mister Benny , he done sharped it away from de others befo' he die. I believe de gals will win de lawsuit. My daddy was de gol' (gold) pilot on de ol' place. Anything he done was right and proper. 'Way atter freedom when my daddy die in Beaumont, Cade Bryant and Mister Benny dey bofe wanter see him befo' dey bury him. Dey ride in and say, 'Better not you bury him befo' us see him.' 'Dat's us young George .' Dey call him dat, but he ol' den.

I done said I help fix up de rooms. I go from room to room. I clean de wash bowls and pitchers and use de broom. Dey have pure silver spoons to clean, too. My mama was de spring back cook and turkey baker. Dey call her dat, she so neat and cook ev'rything so nice. She was a cook. A good cake maker. She mek teacake and pounds cake. Some wid fruit. I's a expert cook, too. She learnt me. She mek custards for dinner a diff'rent one ev'ry day so dey ain' git tired. Dem custards was very particular jobs. You beat de eggs and improve wid sugar but it tek a expert cook so's dey ain' git sof' while de boarders is eatin'. Dey's a clabber dat's good too. You hang it up, a clean w'ite sack to drip out. Den you dress it up wid sugar. When dey wasn' no task, us chillun all play, w'ite chillun and all. Oh, yes, any ol' kind of Jim Crow play. Dey was one song us sung: 'Don't steal, Don't steal, Don't steal my sugar. Don't steal, Don't steal, Don't steal my candy, 'I's comin' roun' de mountain."Dey sho' have better chu'ch in dem days dan dey is now. Don' have chu'ch good today as us had den. Us git happy and shout. Dey's too many blin' taggers now. Now dey say dey got de key and dey ain' got nuthin'. Us uster sing lots dem chu'ch songs what was mek by de cullud folks like: 'Adam's fallen race, Good Lawd, hang down my head and cry. Help me to trust Him, Help me to trust Him, Help me to trust Him, Gift of God. Help me to trust Him, Help me to trust Him, Help me to trust Him, Eternal Life. 'Had not been for Adam's race, I wouldn' been sinnin' today.' Den dey was anudder one: 'Heavenly land, Heavenly land, Heavenly land, I's gwineter beg God For dat Heavenly Land. Some come cripplin' Some come lame Some come walkin' In Jesus' name.

You know I saw you all las' night in my sleep. I ain' never see you befo' but I see you last night. Dey was de two of you, a man and a woman, and you come crost that bridge and up yere askin' me iffen I trus' in de Lawd. One time I have on a w'ite dress, a w'ite hat and shoes and I go in de Cath'lic Chu'ch. I go up to de front and mek de sign of de cross. Dat touch was so good and natural dey think I's a Cath'lic. Dat 'cause my mama was a French Creole and she had Cath'lic raisin'. All my chillun is Baptis' so I's a Baptis' too. Dey had nice party in slav'ry time and right atterwards. Dey have candy pullin' and co'n shuckin's and de like. Dey didn' have all dese ol' witchcraf' things like dey does today. Dey's a big stink of de jailhouse behin' ev'rything now. De niggers have dey parties too. Ol' Mister Day and ol' man Bryant dey uster put dey niggers togedder and have prize dances. Po' Mister Charles , dat Mister Day , he sho' lose his money 'cause us allus beat his niggers. Lawd, when I clean myself up I sho' could teach dem how to buy a cake-walk in dem days. I could cut de pigeon wing, jes' pull my heel up and clack dem togedder. Den us do de back step and de banquet. Dem other steps. Us allus have a w'ite tarleyton swift (Swiss) Sunday dress for dances and anywhere. Dem was purty good clo's too. Dey was mek mos' at home. Iffen dey buy de clo'f in de sto' dey allus mek de clo's at home. Dey didn' tear easy. One de ol' man's daughter' what was a college gal in New Yawlins, she try to teach me to read and write when I's li'l. I didn' have no sense though. I cry to go out and play and she had to give it up.

When I's 'bout 15 year' ol' I go to de country school in Liberty. When freedom come de ol' marster he done broke down and cry and so my daddy he stay wid him. He go off and de ol' marster done worry so dat, he had to go back. He stay a good many year'. Bofe us chillun was growed up. Us have a li'l log house on de place all de time. Dey was anudder ol' cullud man. He uster belong to de ol' mistus' father. He was name' George Whitehouse . Do ol' marster give him a li'l house too. He stay atter freedom 'til he die. When dey need extra help dey hire dem 'till de boys git big enough to wuk. Dey was a-tryin' to mek a go of it atter de war 'cause times was hard. I uster be wukkin' 'roun' and I see the purty young w'ite ladies, all dress up and comin' up to de front do'. I tell de boys who was wukkin' out in de fiel' ha'f naked and dirty and dey sneak in de back do' and clean up to spark de gals. I's been marry to dat Henry in dere for 60 years. He was a slave in Little Rock, Arkansas, but I don' 'member what he marster's name was. Oh, yes, it were Anderson Jones . He was marry durin' de war but I ain' knowed much 'bout dat. I do know dat he tol' us he was de corral boy and 'tend de ol' marster's hosses in de war time. He knowed de bad tegious (tedious) part of de war. He must be 'bout 96 year' ol'. He' allus been a good pervider but he start' failin' in 1925. Now he is in pain all de time. Can't see, can't hear and can't talk. Us never has had a squabble in us life. Us have a nice weddin'. De w'ite folks brung me cakes and ev'ry li'l thing. De bigges' eatin' come from Mister Benny's House. I have a w'ite tarleyton dress wid a w'ite tarleyton wig. Dat wig was de hat part go over de head and drape on de shoulder. Dat was a sign you ain' never done no wrong sin and gwineter keep bein' good not do bad. Atter us marry I move off de ol' place but nuthin' mus' do but I gotter keep de house for Mister Benny . I cleanin' up one time and I find a milk chu'n of money. I say, 'Mister Benny , whaffo' you ain' put dat money in de bank? He say, 'I will.' De nex' time I cleanin' up I find a piller sack full of money. I say, 'Mister Benny , I's gwineter quit. I ain' gwineter be 'sponsible for dis money.' He was sick den and I put de money under his piller, and git ready to go. He say, 'You better stay here, you go off I sen' Andrew de sheriff atter you.' I say, 'I gotter go cook Henry ' dinner for him and I come back.' When I git back dey have fo' doctors and one doctor from Houston. But Mister Benny's wife she say, 'Liza , you got a sight. Is Benny gwineter git well?' I go and look and I knowed Mister Benny gwine 'way from here. I been raise' right up in de yard and I knowed when he was bad sick. I knowed he was gone den. Dey leant on me a heap atter dat.