“All I ricollects ’bout my gran’ma was she belonged to General Thomas R.R.  Cobb, and us called ’im Marse Thomas.  Gran’ma Susan wouldn’t do right so Marse Thomas sold her on de block.

“Us had evvything good to eat.  Marse Thomas was a rich man and fed ’is Niggers well.  Dey cooked in a big open fireplace and biled greens and some of de udder vittals in a great big pot what swung on a rack.  Meat, fish and chickens was fried in a griddle iron what was sot on a flat topped trivet wid slits to let de fire thoo.  Dey called it a trivet ’cause it sot on three legs and hot coals was raked up under it.  Hoe cakes made out of cornmeal and wheat flour sho’ was good cooked on dat griddle.  ’Tatoes was roasted in de ashes, and dey cooked bread what dey called ash cake in de ashes.  Pound cake, fruit cake, light bread and biscuits was baked in a great big round pot, only dey warn’t as deep as de pots dey biled in; dese was called ovens.  Makes me hongry to think ’bout all dem good vittals now.

“Oh!  Yes Ma’am, us had plenty ’possums.  Pappy used to cotch so many sometimes he jest put ’em in a box and let us eat ’em when us got ready.  ’Possums tasted better atter dey was put up in a box and fattened a while.  Us didn’t have many rabbits; dey warn’t as much in style den as dey is now, and de style of eatin’ ’possums lak dey done in slav’ry times, dat is ’bout over.  Dey eats ’em some yet, but it ain’t stylish no mo’.  Us chillun used to go fishin’ in Moore’s Branch; one would stand on one side of de branch wid a stick, and one on de udder side would roust de fishes out.  When dey come to de top and jump up, us would hit ’em on de head, and de grown folks would cook ’em.  Dere warn’t but one gyarden, but dat had plenty in it for evvybody.

“In summer time us wore checkedy dresses made wid low waistes and gethered skirts, but in winter de dresses was made out of linsey-woolsey cloth and underclothes was made out of coarse unbleached cloth.  Petticoats had bodice tops and de draw’s was made wid waistes too.  Us chillun didn’t know when Sunday come.  Our clothes warn’t no diffu’nt den from no udder day.  Us wore coarse, heavy shoes in winter, but in summer us went splatter bar feets.

“Marse Thomas was jest as good as he could be, what us knowed of ’im.  Miss Marion, my Mist’ess, she won’t as good to us as Marse Thomas, but she was all right too.  Dey had a heap of chillun.  Deir twin boys died, and de gals was Miss Callie, Miss Sallie, Miss Marion (dey called her Miss Birdie), and Miss Lucy, dat Lucy Cobb Institute was named for.  My mudder was Miss Lucy’s nuss.  Marse Thomas had a big fine melonial (colonial) house on Prince Avenue wid slave quarters in de back yard of his 10-acre lot.  He owned ’most nigh dat whole block ’long dar.

“Oh! dey had ‘bout a hundred slaves I’m sho’, for dere was a heap of ’em.  De overseer got ’em up ‘bout five o’clock in de mornin’ and dat breakfust sho’ had better be ready by seben or else somebody gwine to have to pay for it.  Dey went to deir cabins ’bout ten at night.  Marse was good, but he would whup us if we didn’t do right.  Miss Marion was allus findin’ fault wid some of us.