whar dey gwine ter try ter do sum bizness lak tradin er sich matter, dey stop de crowd long side er creek er pond er water en mek em wash up en clean up good lak, en comb em up rite nice, en mek de wimmens wrap up dey heads wid some nice red cloth so dey all look in good shape ter de man whut dey gwine try ter do de bizness wid.  Dats zackly de way dey do Capn, jes lak curryin en fixin up mules fer ter sell, so dey look bettern dey actually is.

“Whilst Marse Tom Davis hed oberseers hired ter look atter de farmin of de lan, he hed his own way er doin de bizness, kase he know dat all he niggers is good wukkers, en dat he kin pend on em, so de fust of ebery week he gib each en ebery single man er fambly er task fer ter do dat week, en atter dat task is done den dey fru wuk fer dat week en kin den ten de patches whut he wud gib dem fer ter raise whut dey want on, en whut de slabes raise on dese patches dat he gib em wud be deres whut-sum-eber hit wud be, cotton er taters er what, hit wub be, dey own, en dey cud sell hit en hab de money fer demselves ter buy whut dey want.

“Marse Tom he wud ride out ober de place at least once a week en always on er Sattidy mornin, en ginerally he wud pass de word out mongst de folkses fer em all ter cum ter de big house er Sattidy atter noon fer er frolic.  Ebery pussen on de place frum de littlest chile ter de oldest man er woman wud clean dey selves up en put on dey best clo’s for ter “go befo de King”, dats whut us called it.  All wud gather in bak of de big house under de big oak trees en Marse Tom he wud cum out wid he fiddle under he arm, yo kno Marse Tom he war a grete fiddler, en sot hisself down in de chere whut Uncle Joe done fotched fer im, en den he tell Uncle Joe fer ter go git de barrel er whiskey en he wud gib em all er gill er two so’s dey cud all feel rite good, en den Marse Tom he start dat fiddle playin rite lively en all dem niggers wid dance en hab de bes kin er frolic, en Marse Tom he git jes es much fun outen de party as de niggers demselves.  Dats de kine er man whut Marse Tom wuz.

“I tell yo, Capn, my marster he sho treated his slabes fair.  Dey all draw er plenty rations once ebery week en iffen dey run out tween times dey cud always git mo, en Marse Tom tell em ter git all de meal en flour at de mill eny time dat dey need hit.  Dats rite, Capn, en I sho tells dis fer de truf, en dat is I say dat iffen all de slabe owning white folks lak Marse Tom Davis, den dere wudn’t ben no use er freedom fer de darkies, kase Marse Tom’s slabes dey long ways better off wid him in dey bondage dan dey wuz wid out im when dey sot free en him dead en gone.

“At Chrismus time on Marse Tom’s place dey wud hab de fun fer er week er mo, wid no wuk gwine on at all.  De candy pullin, en de dances wid be gwine on nigh bout constant, en ebery one gits er present frum de marster.