Story by Aunt Mittie Freeman

“Howdy, honey.  Come on in and set down.  It’s awful hot, ain’t it?  What you come to see me for?  You says old uncle Boss tell you I’se old slave lady?  That’s right, that’s right.  Us old war folks never fergits the others.  Anything you wants to know, honey, jest go on and ax me.  I got the bestest remembrance.

Orange county, Mississippi was where I was borned at but I been right here in Arkansas before sech thing as war gonna be.  In slavery, it was, when my white folks done come to Camden.  You know where that is?—­Camden on the Ouachita?  That’s the place where we come.  Yes Ma’am, it was long before the war when the doctor—­I means Dr. Williams what owned my pappy and all us younguns—­say he going to Arkansas.  Theys rode in the fine carriages.  Us slaves rode in ox wagons.  Lord only knows how long it tuck a-coming.  Every night we camped.  I was jest a little tike then but I has a remembrance of everything.  The biggest younguns had to walk till theys so tired theys couldn’t hardly drag they feets; them what had been a-riding had to get out the ox wagon and walk a far piece; so it like this we go on.

Dr. Williams always wanted to keep his slaves together.  He was sure good man.  He didn’t work his slaves hard like some.  My pappy was a kind of a manager for Doctor.  Doctor tended his business and pappy runned the plantation where we lived at.  Our good master died before freedom.  He willed us slaves to his chilrun.  You know—­passeled (parcelled) us out, some to this child, some to that.  I went to his daughter, Miss Emma.  Laws-a-Mercy, how I wishes I could see her face onct more afore I dies.  I heerd she married rich.  Unh-unh!  I’d shore love to see her onct more.

After old master died, poor old pappy got sent to another plantation of the fam’ly.  It had a overseer.  He was a northerner man and the meanest devil ever put foot on a plantation.  My father was a gentleman; yes ma’am, he was jest that.  He had been brung up that-a-way.  Old master teached us to never answer back to no white folks.  But one day that overseer had my pappy whipped for sompin he never done, and pappy hit him.

So after that, he sent pappy down to New Orleans to be sold.  He said he would liked to kill pappy, but he didn’t dare ’cause he didn’t owned him.  Pappy was old.  Every auction sale, all the young niggers be sold; everybody pass old pappy by.  After a long time—­oh, maybe five years—­one day they ax pappy—­“Are you got some white folks back in Arkansas?” He telled them the Williams white folks in Camden on the Ouachita.  Theys white.  After while theys send pappy home.  Miss, I tells you, nobody never seen sech a home coming.  Old Miss and the young white folks gathered round and hugged my old black pappy when he come home; they cry on his shoulder, so glad to git him back.  That’s what them Williams folks thought of their slaves.  Yes ma’am.