“De bes’ times I can ’member always come ‘roun’ de Fourth o’ July.  Dat was always de beginnin’ o’ camp-meetin’.  Aint nothin’ lak dat in dese days.

“Ever’body what had any standin’ went.  Dey cooked up whole trunks full o’ good things t’eat an’ driv’ over to de camp groun’s.  De preacher had a big pavilion covered wid sweet-gum branches an’ carpeted wid sawdust.  Folks had wagons wid hay an’ quilts whar de men-folks slep’.  De ladies slep’ in little log houses an’ dey took dey feather beds wid’ em.  I always driv’ de carriage for my white folks.  Whilst dey was a-worshipin’ I’d slip ‘roun’ an’ tas’ out o’ dey basket.  Ever’ day I’d eat ’til I was ready to bus’.  One day I got so sick I thought I’d pop wide open.  I crawled down to de spring an’ washed my face in col’ water, but I kep’ gittin’ worse an’ worse.  Den somebody called out:  ‘Captain Stier, yo’ Nigger’s a-dyin’!’ My marster called de doctor.  He sho’ was shamed in public, ‘cause, he knowed pos’tive I’d been a-pilferin’ in dem baskets.  Dem sho’ was good old days.  I’d love to live’ em over ag’in.

“Us slaves mos’ly sung hymns an’ sa’ms.[TR:  footnote indicated but none found] But I’ member one song’ bout a frog pond an’ one ’bout ’Jump, Mr. Toad.’  I’s too wordless to sing ’em now, but dey was funny.  Us danced plenty, too.  Some o’ de men clogged an’ pidgeoned, but when us had dances dey was real cotillions, lak de white folks had.  Dey was always a fiddler an’, on Chris’mus an’ other holidays, de slaves was’ lowed to’ vite dey sweethearts from other plantations.  I use to call out de figgers:  ‘Ladies, sasshay, Gents to de lef, now all swing.’  Ever’body lak my calls an’ de dancers sho’ moved smooth an’ pretty.  Long after de war was over de white folks would ‘gage me to come’ roun’ wid de band an’ call de figgers at all de big dances.  Dey always paid me well.

“Old Mis’ ‘ud let us cook a gran’ supper an’ Marse ’ud slip us some likker.  Dem suppers was de bes’ I ever et.  Sometimes dey’d be wil’ turkey, fried fish, hot corn pone, fresh pork ham, baked yams, chitlins, pop corn, apple pie, pound cake, raisins, an’ coffee.  Law, Miss! de folks now-a-days don’t know nothin’ ‘bout good eatin’, nowhow.

“When de big war broke out I sho’ stuck by my marster.  I fit[FN:  fought] de Yankees same as he did.  I went in de battles ‘long side o’ him an’ both fit under Marse Robert E. Lee.  I reckon ever’body has heard ’bout him.  I seen more folks dan anybody could count.  Heaps of ’em was all tore to pieces an’ cryin’ to God to let ’em die.  I toted water to dem in blue de same as dem in gray.  Folks wouldn’ b’lieve de truf if I was to tell all I knows ’bout dem ungodly times.

“Fore de war I never knowed what it was to go empty.  My marster sho’ set a fine table an’ fed his people de highes’.  De hongriest I ever been was at de Siege o’ Vicksburg.  Dat was a time I’d lak to forgit.  De folks et up all de cats an’ dogs an’ den went to devourin’ de mules an’ hosses.  Even de wimmin an’ little chillun was a-starvin’.  Dey stummicks was stickin’ to dey backbones.  Us Niggers was sufferin’ so us took de sweaty hoss blankets an’ soaked ’em in mudholes where de hosses tromped.  Den us wrung’ em out in buckets an’ drunk dat dirty water for pot-likker.  It tasted kinda salty an’ was strength’nin’, lak weak soup.