early in de mornin’ and pass ’round a big pewter pitcher full of whiskey, den he would put a little whiskey in dat same pitcher and fill it wid sweetened water and give dat to us chillun.  Us called dat ‘toddy’ or ‘dram’.  Marse Alex allus had plenty of good whiskey, ’cause Uncle Willis made it up for him and it was made jus’ right.  De night atter Christmas Day us pulled syrup candy, drunk more liquor, and danced.  Us had a big time for a whole week and den on New Year’s Day us done a little wuk jus’ to start de year right and us feasted dat day on fresh meat, plenty of cake, and whiskey.  Dere was allus a big pile of ash-roasted ’taters on hand to go wid dat good old baked meat.  Us allus tried to raise enough ’taters to last all through de winter ’cause Niggers sho does love dem sweet ‘taters.  No Mam, us never knowed nothin’ ’bout Santa Claus ’til atter de war.

“No Mam, dere warn’t no special cornshuckin’s and cotton pickin’s on Marse Alec’s place, but of course dey did quilt in de winter ’cause dere had to be lots of quiltin’ done for all dem slaves to have plenty of warm kivver, and you knows, Lady, ’omens can quilt better if dey gits a passel of ’em together to do it.  Marse Alec and Marse Lordnorth never ’lowed dere slaves to mix up wid other folkses business much.

“Oh Lord!  Us never played no games in slavery times, ‘cept jus’ to run around in a ring and pat our hands.  I never sung no songs ’cause I warn’t no singer, and don’t talk ’bout no Raw Head and Bloody Bones or nothin’ lak dat.  Dey used to skeer us chillun so bad ’bout dem sort of things dat us used to lay in bed at night a-shakin’ lak us was havin’ chills.  I’ve seed plenty of ha’nts right here in Athens.  Not long atter I had left Crawfordville and moved to Athens, I had been in bed jus’ a little while one night, and was jus’ dozin’ off to sleep when I woke up and sot right spang up in bed.  I seed a white man, dressed in white, standin’ before me.  I sho didn’t say nothin’ to him for I was too skeered.  De very last time I went to a dance, somepin got atter me and skeered me so my hair riz up ’til I couldn’t git my hat on my haid, and dat cyored me of gwine to dances.  I ain’t never been to no more sich doin’s.

“Old Marster was powerful good to his Niggers when dey got sick.  He had ’em seed atter soon as it was ‘ported to him dat dey was ailin’.  Yessum, dere warn’t nothin’ short ’bout our good Marsters, ’deed dere warn’t!  Grandpa Stafford had a sore laig and Marse Lordnorth looked atter him and had Uncle Jim dress dat pore old sore laig evvy day.  Slaves didn’t git sick as often as Niggers does now days.  Mammy Mary had all sorts of teas made up for us, ‘cordin’ to whatever ailment us had.  Boneset tea was for colds.  De fust thing dey allus done for sore throat was give us tea made of red oak bark wid alum.  Scurvy grass tea cleant us out in the springtime, and dey made us wear little sacks of assfiddy (asafetida) ’round our necks to keep off lots of sorts of miseries.  Some folkses hung de left hind foot of a mole on a string ’round deir babies necks to make ’em teethe easier.  I never done nothin’ lak dat to my babies ’cause I never believed in no such foolishment.  Some babies is jus’ natchelly gwine to teethe easier dan others anyhow.