I was bo'n on Master Jim Finley's place in LaFayette County Arkansas, December 25, 1855. My father allus went by the name of Rice , which was his master's name befo' he become the property of Master Jim Finley . My mother was named Lucindy , an' was bought on the slave market in New Orleans. I don't 'member nothin' 'bout the Rices . I was named George Washington by young Master John Finley , ole Master Jim Finley's son. The only wo'k I done befo' the war was mindin' birds offen the co'n by clappin' two cedar paddles together. When news of the surrender come, my ole Master was so upset dat he walk rit under a cotton press at the gin an' was killed. My uncle Sam was there. He seen him an' hollered, "Look out, Marse Jim ." But he jes' stan' dar an' let the press fall on him. Young Master John Finley was our boss after that. The Finley's was mighty good to us Niggers. We lived in big box houses wid chimneys an' fire places. There was no stoves in dem days. We slep' in as the Nigger says "Damit to Hell Beds". Nobody had sich beds as they hav' now. My Mammy was a cloth weaver. We allus had warm woolen clothes in the winter, an' cotton clothes in the summer. Niggers was sho' better cared for them days than now. Wo'kin' Niggers was lowd a pound of meat at a meal. I never went to school. After the war, my Pappy wouldn't let me learn to read and 'rite fer fear I leave home. There was signs along the roads an' trails, an' he didn't want me to learn to read them. Pappy say, "The Bes' Niggers never learn to read the 'rite". We didn't have to wo'k all the time. I played wid the odder kids. Niggers was 'lowd to clean up lan' an' make some munny, but they was all gamblers an' it did them no good. We sometime went to chu'ch at Lost Prairie 'cross the river in Miller County. All us chil'ren was fed to-gedder. We used mussel shells fer spoons. The wo'kin' fo'ks et separate frum the res'. There was 'bout 2000 acres in Master Finley's plantation. We raised co'n, cotton an' wheat mos'ly. There was a cotton gin and flour mill on the place. Master Jim had mos' everything. The overseer was a Nigger named Hardle Harris. He would sho whip unruly Niggers, but Master Jim , he nebber whip us. When the Niggers warn't wo'kin' they sometimes got permission to go to Lost Prairie. I was gladder to get permission to go to the dances than to Lost Prairie. But you sho better hav' pass permission. The "Paddy Rollers" sho giv' some whippin' if they catch you wideout a pass. Bill Worship was the fiddler, an' sho could play. When there was a weddin' at the white fo'ks house, old Master killed a cow an' hav' a big barbecue, an' we all had some big time. I don't 'member much bout the war. My Pappy, Paskel Rice , was a teamster durin' the war, an' come home on a furlo' sometime.