“In those days they’d all kinds of work by hand on the farm.  No Madam, no cotton to speak of, or tobacco then.  Just farmin’ corn, hogs, wheat fruit,—­like here.  Yes Madam, that was all on John Beck’s farm except the flax and the big wooley sheep.  Plenty of nice clean flax-cloth suits we all had.

“Beck wasn’t so good—­but we had enough to eat, wear, and could have our Saturday afternoon to go to town, and Sunday for church.  We sho did have church, large meetin’—­camp meetin’—­with lot of singin’ an shoutin’ and it was fine!  Nevah was no singer, but I was a good dancer in my day, yes—­yes Madam I were a good dancer.  I went to dances and to church with my folks.  My father played a violin.  He played well, so did my brother, but I never did play or sing.  Mammy sang a lot when she was spinning and weaving.  She sing an’ that big wheel a turnin.’

  “When I can read my title clear,
  Up Yonder, Up Yonder, Up Yonder!

and another of her spinnin’ songs was a humin:—­

  “The Promise of God Salvation free to give...”

“Besides helpin’ on the farm, father was ferryman on the Yadkin River for Beck.  He had a boat for hire.  Sometimes passengers would want to go a mile, sometimes 30.  Father died at thirty-five.  He played the violin fine.  My brother played for dances, and he used to sing lots of songs:—­

  “Ol’ Aunt Katy, fine ol’ soul,
  She’s beatin’ her batter,
  In a brand new bowl...

—­that was a fetchin’ tune, but you see I can’t even carry it.  Maybe I could think up the words of a lot of those ol’ tunes but they ought to pay well for them, for they make money out of them.  I liked to go to church and to dances both.  For a big church to sing I like ’Nearer My God to Thee’—­there isn’t anything so good for a big crowd to sing out big!

“Father died when he was thirty-five of typhoid.  We all had to work hard.  I came up here in 1892—­and I don’t know why I should have, for Winston-Salem was a big place.  I’ve worked on farm and roads.  My wife died ten years ago.  We adopted a girl in Tennennesee years ago, and she takes a care of me now.  She was always good to us—­a good girl.  Yes, Madam.”

Wade Glenn proved to be not nearly so interesting as his appearance promised.  He is short; wears gold rimmed glasses; a Southern Colonel’s Mustache and Goatee—­and capitals are need to describe the style!  He had his comical-serious little countenance topped off with a soft felt hat worn at the most rakish angle.  He can’t carry a tune, and really is not musical.  His adopted daughter with whom he lives is rated the town’s best colored cook.

Ohio Guide, Special
Ex-Slave Stories
August 16, 1937

DAVID A. HALL

“I was born at Goldsboro, N.C., July 25, 1847.  I never knew who owned my father, but my mother’s master’s name was Lifich Pamer.  My mother did not live on the plantation but had a little cabin in town.  You see, she worked as a cook in the hotel and her master wanted her to live close to her work.  I was born in the cabin in town.