“Thar was plenty dancin’ ‘mong’st darkies on Marse George’s place an’ on ones nearby.  Dey danced reels an’ lak in de moonlight: 

[HW:  Songs]

  ‘Mamma’s got de whoopin’ cough,
  Daddy’s got de measles,
  Dat’s whar de money goes,
  Pop goes de weasel.’

  ’Buffalo gals, can’t you come out tonight,
  Come out tonight, an’ dance by de light of de moon?’

  ’Gennie, put de kettle on,
  Sallie, boil de water strong,
  Gennie, put de kittle on
  An’ le’s have tea!’

  ’Run tell Coleman,
  Run tell everbody
  Dat de niggers is arisin’!’

  ’Run nigger run, de patterrollers ketch you—­
  Run nigger run, fer hits almos’ day,
  De nigger run; de nigger flew; de nigger los’
  His big old shoe.’

“When de War come, Marse George went to fight back in Virginny.  Us all thought de Yankees was some kin’ of debils an’ we was skeered to death of ’em.

“One day Miss Mary Jane, Helen, an’ me was playin’ an’ we seen mens all dressed in blue coats wid brass buttons on dey bosoms ridin’ on big fine hosses, drive right up to our po’ch an’ say to Aunt Dalia whar she was sweepin’: 

“‘Good morning, Madam, no men’s about?’

“When she tol’ ’em wa’nt no mens ’bout, day ax fer de keys to de smokehouse an’ went out an’ hap’ed deyse’ves an’ loaded dey wagons.  Den dey went out in de pasture ‘mongst de sheeps an’ killed off some of dem.  Nex’ dey went in de buggy house an’ all together shuck down de carri’ge so we neber could use hit no mo’.  Yessum, dey done right smart of mischief ‘roun’ thar.

“Some of de darkies went off wid de Yankees.  My brudder Howard did, an’ we ain’t heerd tell of him since.  I’ll tell you ’bout it.  You see, Mr. Davenpo’t owned him an’ when he heard ‘bout da Yankees comin’ dis way, he sont his white driver an’ Howard in de carri’ge wid all his valuables to de swamp to hide, an’ while dey was thar de white driver, he went off to sleep an’ Howard was prowlin’ ‘roun’ an’ we all jes reckin he went on off wid de Yankees.

[HW:  Superstition]

“You mean hoo doo?  Dat’s whut ma pappy done to my mammy.  You see, dey was allus fussin’ ’bout fust one thing, den ‘nother, an’ mammy got mad ‘caus’n pappy slipped her clo’es out’n her ches’ an’ taken over to de other gals fer to dance in, an’ when he brung’ em back mammy would see finger prints on’ em whar he been turnin’ ’em ‘roun’ an’ she sho’ be mad an’ fight him.  She could lick him too caus’n she was bigger.  One day pappy come in an’ say to mammy: 

“‘Does you want to be bigger an’ stronger dan whut you already is?’ An’ mammy say she did.  So nex’ day he brung her a li’l bottle of somethin’ blood red wid somethin’ looked like a gourd seed in de middle of it, an’ he tol’ her to drink hit iffen she want to be real strong.  Frum de fust drink she fell off.  Place of walkin’ off, she jes stumbled an’ got wo’ser an’