Well, suh, my white folks done larn me to start de cotton row right and point for de stake at de far end of de field, and dat way a nigger don't git off de line and go dis-a-way and dat-a-way. He start right and end right, yes, suh! Dat de way to live - you start right and go de straight way to de end and you comes out all right. I's been here a mighty long time, I sho has, and done forgit a heap, 'cause my head ain't so good no more, but when I first knowed myself I 'longs to old Marse John McCoy . Old Miss Mary was he wife and dey de only white folks what I ever 'longs to. Dat how come I's a McCoy , 'cause all de niggers what old marse have goes by his name. My pappy's name was Hector and mammy's name Ann , and dey dies when I's jes' a young buck and dat been a long time 'fore freedom. Ain't got no brudders and sisters what I knows 'bout. All a slave have to go by am what de white folks tells him 'bout his kinfolks. Old Marse John have a big place round Houston and raises cotton and corn and hawgs and cows. Dere was lots of wilderness den, full of varmints and wildcats and bears. Old Marse done larn me 'bedience and not to lie or steal, and he larn me with de whip. Dat all de larnin' we gits. Does he cotch you with de book or paper, he whip you hand down. He don't whip de old folks none, jes' de young bucks, 'cause dey wild and mean and dat de onlies' way day larns right from wrong. I tells you jes' like I tells everyone - folks had heap more sense in slave times dan dey has now. Long as a nigger do right. old marse pertect him, Old Marse feed he niggers good, too, and we has plenty clothes. Course; dey homemade on de spinnin' wheel, but dey good. De shoes jes' like pen'tentiary shoes, only not fix up so good. Old Marse kill a cow for meat and take de hide to de tanner and Uncle Jim make dat hide into shoes. Dey hard and heavy and hurt de feets, but dey wear like you has iron shoes. Old Marse don't work he niggers Sunday like some white folks do. Dat de day we has church meetin' under trees. De spirit jes' come down out de sky and you forgits all you troubles. Slave times was de best, 'cause cullud folks am ig'rant and ain't got no sense and in slave times white folks show dem de right way. Now dey is free, dey gits uppity and sassy. Some dose young bucks ought to git dere heads whipped down. Dat larn dem manners. Freedom wasn't no diff'rence I knows of. I works for Marse John jes' de same for a long time. He say one mornin, 'John , you can go out in de field iffen you wants to, or you can git out iffen you wants to, 'cause de gov'ment say you is free. If you wants to work I'll feed you and give you clothes but can't pay you no money. I ain't got none.' Humph, I didn't know nothin' what money was, nohow, but I knows I'll git plenty victuals to eat so I stays till old marse die end old miss git shot of de place. Den I gits me a job farmin' and when I gits too old for dat I does dis and dat for white folks, like fixin' yards. I's black and jes' a poor, old nigger, but I rev'rence my white folks 'cause day rared me up in de right way. If cullud folks pay 'tention and listen to what de white folks tell dem, de world be a heap better off. Un old niggers knows dat's de truth, too, 'cause we larns respec' and manners from our white folks and on de great day of jedgment my white folks is gwineter most me and shake hands with me and be glad to see me. Yes, sub. dat's de truth!

John McCoy , aged ex-slave living in a small frame shack at the rear of 2310 State St., Houston, Tex., claims to have been born Jan. 1, 1838. Although his memory regarding many things is hazy, John is certain that  folks had a heap more sense in slave times dan dey has now", and thinks the present generation of the colored race "uppity" and "sassy. Well suh, my white folks learn me to start de cotton row right and point for de stake at de fur end of de field, and dat way a nigger don't get off de line and go dis-a-way and dat-a-way. He starts right and ends right, yes suh. And dat's de way to live,-you starts right and go de straight way to de end and you comes out all right. I's been here a mighty long time, yes suh, I sure has, and dere's a heap I'se forgotten 'cause my head ain't so good no more, but de old Marster and Mistus what I belong to learn de niggers right from wrong. When I fust knowed myself, I belong to old Marster John McCoy . Old Mis' Mary what was old Marster's wife was my Mistus, and dey was de only white folks what I ever belong to. Dat's how come I's a McCoy , 'cause all de niggers what old Marster own have to go by his name. Lemme see now, what was my mamma's name. Um-um- dis old head git jes' like a balky mule sometime,-jes' won't act right. Mebbe I think what it was in a little bit. I know my papa's name was Hector . Hector McCoy was his name, and now I member, mamma's name was Ann , dat's right, her name was Ann .

I know dey die when I's jes' a young buck and dat's been a long time back 'fore freedom. Don't know whar dey come from 'cause I guess I don't ask 'em 'bout it. Ain't got no brudders or sisters what I knows bout. All a nigger what was a slave have to go by, is what de white folks tell him, and dey don't tell me none 'bout no kin-folks. I 'member old Marster John has big place 'round here somewhar, and has lots of land. It somewhar 'round Houston but I don't know whar'bouts. I know he raise cotton and corn and hogs and cows, and when I fust knowed myself, I goes out to hunt up de cows and hogs. Dere was lots of wilderness den, full of varmints and wildcats and bears, and 'til I's put in de field I's a stock boy. Wasn't no playing for niggers in slave times, jes work. Old Marster learn us young bucks manners, and 'bedience and not to lie or steal, and he teach us with de whip. Dat's all de learning we gets. Does he cotch you with a book or paper, he whip your head down. He don't whip de old folks none, jes' de young niggers, 'cause dey is wild and mean, and dat's de only way dey learn de right way from de wrong. I tells you jes' like I tells everyone, folks had a heap more sense in slave times 'n what dey has now, yes suh. Long as a nigger do right, old Marster 'd pertect him. He teach him how to keep a straight row in de field and learn him how to farm good. Old Marster feed his niggers good, too, and we has plenty of clothes. Cose dey was homemade on de spinning wheel, but dey was good. De shoes was jes' like penitentiary shoes only dey wasn't fixed up so good. Old Marster would kill a cow for meat, and take de hide to de tanyard to be tanned and de hair took off, den Uncle Jim what was de shoe man, make de hide into shoes. Dey was hard and heavy and hurt de feet, but dey wear jes' like you has iron shoes. Dey wears so good de penitentiary folks make 'em de same way. Old Marster don't work his niggers none on Sunday like some white folks do. Dat's de day we has church meetings under de trees, and we learns to honor God. Dat's de real church, yes suh! Ain't no roof over your head or no walls shutting you in. De Spirit jes' comes down to you outen de sky and you forgit all 'bout your troubles. Folks go to meetings now jes' to show demselves off, and dat's de truth. No suh, slave times was de best. Colored folks is ign'rant and ain't got no sense and in slave times white folks show 'em de right way to do. Now dey is free but dey ain't got white folks to show 'em de right from what ain't right, and dey gits uppity and sassy. Dey says 'no' 'yes' and 'what', 'stead of 'no suh' and 'yes suh'. Humph, dese here young niggers oughter git dere heads whipped down, dat learns 'em manners. Cose sometime old Marster get hold of a nigger what was rotten, jes' mean and bad, but soon he find out de nigger ain't no good he gits shet of him quick. Freedom wasn't no diffrent dat I know of. I works for Marster John jes' de same for a long time.

He say one morning, 'John , you can go out in de field if you want to, or you can get out if you want to, 'cause de Gov'ment say you is free. If you want to work I'll feed you and give you clothes and a place to stay, but I can't pay you no money'. Humph, I didn't know nothing what money was nohow, but I knows I git plenty vittles to eat and clothes so I jes' stay 'til old Marster die and old Mistus git shet of de place. Den I gits me 'nother job farming, and when 'I gits too old for working in de cotton field, I jes' does fust dis and dat for white folks like fixing yards and sech. No suh, I's black and jes' a poor old nigger, but I's rev'rence my white folks 'cause dey rared me up in de right way. Humph, I don't trust none of dese new niggers 'cause dey ain't got no sense 'tall. Dey think dey is smart, but white folks de only ones what got sense. If colored folks pay 'tention and listen to what white folks tell 'em de world be a heap better off. Us old niggers know dat's de truth too, 'cause we learns respec' and manners from our white folks, and on de great day of de judgment, my white folks is going to meet me and shake hands with me and 'll be glad to see me. Yes suh dat's de truth.