“Times were tight—­not a grain o’ coffee an’ not much else.  When us clo’es[FN:  clothes] were plumb wore out, de mistis an’ de Nigger wimmins made us some out o’ de cotton us had raised.  My granny stayed de loom-room all de time.  De other winmins done de spinnin’ an’ she done de weavin’.  She were a’ good’n’.

“De M & O (Mobile & Ohio Railroad) were a-burnin’ wood, den.  Dey couldn’ git coal.  Dey used taller[FN:  tallow] pots ‘stead o’ oil.  De engineer had to climb out on de engine hisse’f an’ ’tend to dam taller pots.  Dey do diffe’nt now.

“Dey were such a sca’city of men, dey were a-puttin’ ’em in de war at sixty-five.  But de war end ’fore dey call dat list.

“Mistis didn’ have nobody to he’p her endurin’ de war.  She had to do de bes’ she could.

“When she hear’d de Niggers talkin’ ‘bout bein’ free, she wore ’em out wid a cowhide.  She warnt a pow’ful-built woman, neither.  She had to do it herse’f, ’cause twant nobody to do it for ‘er.  Dey warnt nothin’ a Nigger could do but stan’ up an’ take it.

“Some folks treated dey slaves mighty bad—­put Nigger dogs on ’em.  All my white folks were good to dey slaves, ‘cordin’ to how good de Niggers b’haved deyse’fs.  Course, you couldn’ leave no plantation widout a pass, or de pateroller’d git you.  I aint countin’ dat, ’cause dat were somthin’ ever’body knowed ‘forehan’.

“Dey were a heap o’ talk ‘bout de Yankees a-givin’ ever’ Nigger forty acres an’ a mule.  I don’t know how us come to hear ‘bout it.  It jus’ kinda got aroun’.  I picked out my mule.  All o’ us did.

“Times were mighty tough.  Us thought us knowed trouble endurin’ de war.  Um-m-m!  Us didn’ know nothin’ ’bout trouble.

“Dey were so many slaves at McAllum’s, dey had to thin ’em out.  Mistis put us out[FN:  hired us out].  She sent me to Mr. Scott close to Scooba.  I were mos’ a grown boy by den an’ could plow pretty good.  Come de surrender, Mr. Scott say, ‘Sambo, I don’t have to pay yo’ mistis for you no more.  I have to pay you if you stay.  Niggers is free.  You is free.’  I didn’ b’lieve it.  I worked dat crop out, but I didn’ ask for no pay.  Dat didn’ seem right.  I didn’ un’erstan’ ’bout freedom, so I went home to my old mistis.  She say, ‘Sambo, you don’t b’long to me now.’

“Dey bound us young Niggers out.  Dey sent me an’ my brother to a man dat were goin’ to give us some learnin’ ‘long wid farmin’.  His name were Overstreet.  Us worked dat crop out, but us aint never seen no speller, nor nothin’.

“Den us went back to Stephenson’s, where us were born, to git us age.  Old mistis say, ‘Sambo, you aint twenty-one yet.’

“She cried, ‘cause I had to go back to Mr. Overstreet.  But I didn’.  My mammy an’ me went back to McAllum’s an’ stayed until a man give us a patch in turn[FN:  return] for us he’pin’ him on his farm.

“I know ’bout de Kloo Kluxes[FN:  Klu Kluxes].  I seen ’em.  ‘Bout de firs’ time I seen ’em were de las’.  Aint nobody know zackly[FN:  exactly] ’bout dem Kloo Kluxes.  Some say it were a sperrit dat hadn’ had no water since de war.  One rider would drink fo’ or five gallons at one time—­kep’ us a-totin’ buckets fas’ as us could carry ’em.  It were a sperrit, a evil sperrit.