The next day my new mistress began her housekeeping.  I was not exactly appointed maid of all work; but I was to do whatever I was told.  Monday evening came.  It was always a busy time.  On that night the slaves received their weekly allowance of food.  Three pounds of meat, a peck of corn, and perhaps a dozen herring were allowed to each man.  Women received a pound and a half of meat, a peck of corn, and the same number of herring.  Children over twelve years old had half the allowance of the women.  The meat was cut and weighed by the foreman of the field hands, and piled on planks before the meat house.  Then the second foreman went behind the building, and when the first foreman called out, “Who takes this piece of meat?” he answered by calling somebody’s name.  This method was resorted to as a means of preventing partiality in distributing the meat.  The young mistress came out to see how things were done on her plantation, and she soon gave a specimen of her character.  Among those in waiting for their allowance was a very old slave, who had faithfully served the Flint family through three generations.  When he hobbled up to get his bit of meat, the mistress said he was too old to have any allowance; that when niggers were too old to work, they ought to be fed on grass.  Poor old man!  He suffered much before he found rest in the grave.

My mistress and I got along very well together.  At the end of a week, old Mrs. Flint made us another visit, and was closeted a long time with her daughter-in-law.  I had my suspicions what was the subject of the conference.  The old doctor’s wife had been informed that I could leave the plantation on one condition, and she was very desirous to keep me there.  If she had trusted me, as I deserved to be trusted by her, she would have had no fears of my accepting that condition.  When she entered her carriage to return home, she said to young Mrs. Flint, “Don’t neglect to send for them as quick as possible.”  My heart was on the watch all the time, and I at once concluded that she spoke of my children.  The doctor came the next day, and as I entered the room to spread the tea table, I heard him say, “Don’t wait any longer.  Send for them to-morrow.”  I saw through the plan.  They thought my children’s being there would fetter me to the spot, and that it was a good place to break us all in to abject submission to our lot as slaves.  After the doctor left, a gentleman called, who had always manifested friendly feelings towards my grandmother and her family.  Mr. Flint carried him over the plantation to show him the results of labor performed by men and women who were unpaid, miserably clothed, and half famished.  The cotton crop was all they thought of.  It was duly admired, and the gentleman returned with specimens to show his friends.  I was ordered to carry water to wash his hands.  As I did so, he said, “Linda, how do you like your new home?” I told him I liked it as well as I expected.  He replied, “They don’t think you are contented, and to-morrow they are going to bring your children to be with you.  I am sorry for you, Linda.  I hope they will treat you kindly.”  I hurried from the room, unable to thank him.  My suspicions were correct.  My children were to be brought to the plantation to be “broke in.”