“I was born up near Bartley’s Ferry right on de river.  De way I cal’clates my age makes me ‘bout 92 years old.  My firs’ Marster was name Mr. Harry Allen.  He died when I was a boy an’ I don’t ’member much ’bout him.  De Mistis, dat was his wife, married ag’in an’ dat husband’s name was Marse Jimmy Tatum.  Dey was sho’ good white folks.  My mammy an’ pappy was name Martha an’ Martin Franks.  Marse Harry brung ’em down from Virginny, I thinks.  Or else he bought ’em from Marse Tom Franks in West Point.  Anyways dey come from Virginny an’ I don’t know which one of ’em brought ’em down here.  Dey did b’long to Marse Tom.  I knows dat.

“Bartley’s used to be some place.  My folks had a big hotel down on de river bank.  Dey was a heap of stores right on de bank, too.  De river done wash’ em all ‘way now.  Dey aint nothin’ lef’.  But Lawdy!  When I was a kid de boats used to come a-sailin’ up de river ‘bout once a week an’ I used to know de names o’ all de big ones.  Dey would stop an’ pick up a load o’ cotton to carry to Mobile.  When dey come back dey would be loaded wid all kin’ o’ gran’ things.

“Us chillun had a big time playin’ roun’ de dock.  Us played ’Hide de Switch’ an’ ‘Goose and Gander’ in de day time.  Den at nighttime when de moon was shinin’ big an’ yaller, us’d play ‘Ole Molly Bright.’  Dat was what us call de moon.  Us’d make up stories ‘bout her.  Dat was de bes’ time o’ all.  Sometimes de old folks would join in an’ tell tales too.  Been so long I forgits de tales, but I know dey was good’ns.

“When I got big ’nough to work I he’ped ‘roun’ de lot mostly.  Fac’ is I’se worked right ‘roun’ white folks mos’ all my days.  I did work in de fiel’ some, but us had a good overseer.  His name was Marse Frank Beeks an’ he was good as any white man dat ever lived.  I don’t never ’member him whippin’ one o’ de slaves, leastways not real whippin’s.  I do ‘member hearin’ ‘bout slaves on other places gittin’ whipped sometimes.  I guess Niggers lak dat wished dey was free, but I didn’ want to leave my white folks, ever.

“Us had preachin’ an’ singin’.  Dey was some mighty good meetin’s on de place.  Old Daddy Young was ‘bout de bes’ preacher us ever had.  Dey was plenty o’ Niggers dere, ’cause it was a powerful big place.  Old Daddy could sho’ make ’em shout an’ roll.  Us have to hol’ some of ’em dey’d git so happy.  I knowed I had ’ligion when I got baptized.  Dey took me out in de river an’ it took two of ’em to put me under.  When I come up I tol’ ’em, ‘turn me loose, I b’lieve I can walk right on top o’ de water.’  Dey don’ have no ’ligion lak dat now-a-days.

“All de Niggers on de Tatum place had dey own patches where dey could plant what ever day wanted to.  Dey’d work ’em on Satu’d’ys.  When dey sol’ anything from dey patch Mistis ’ud let ’em keep de money.  When de boats went down to Mobile us could sen’ down for anything us want to buy.  One time I had $10.00 saved up an’ I bought lots o’ pretties wid it.  Us always had plenty t’eat, too.  All de greens, eggs, wheat, corn, meat, an’ chitlins dat anybody’d want.  When hog killin’ time come us always have some meat lef’ over from de year befo’.  Us made soap out of dat.