But a worse slavery is now on us.  I would rather have my son sold to a slave-driver than to be a victim of a saloon.  I could, in the first case, hope to see him in heaven; but no drunkard can inherit eternal life.  The people of the south said no power could take from them their slaves, but ’tis a thing of the past.  People now say, you can’t shut up saloons.  But our children will know them as a thing of the past.  My father was glad when the slaves were free.  He felt the responsibility of owning them.  Have heard him say, after having some-trouble with them:  “Those negroes will send me to hell yet.”  He would gather them in the dining-room Sunday evenings and read the Bible to them and have prayer.  He would first call aunt Liza and ask her to have them come in.  The negroes would sing, and it is a sweet memory to me.

{illust. caption = this is A picture of myself and sister Edna, sitting on each side of our mother.I am on the left and was about six years old.}

CHAPTER II.

My experience with the negroes as slaves.—­Their superstitions.—­ A beautiful Fairy tale.

The colored race, as I knew them, were generally kind to the white children of their masters.  Their sympathy was great in childish troubles.  They were our nurses around our sick beds.  Their lullabyes soothed us to sleep.  Very frequently my nurse would hold me in her arms until both of us would fall asleep, but she would still hold me secure.  When any of my misdoings came to the ears of my parents, and I was punished their testimony would, as far as possible, shield me, and not until I would try their patience out of all bounds would they tell my mother on me.  I never heard an infidel negro express his views, even if very wicked.  They had firm belief in God and a devil.  I always liked their meetings, their songs and shoutings.  They always told me that no one could help shouting.  The first time I ever heard a white woman shout was in Northern Texas, during the war.  I did not wish the spirit to cause me to jump up and clap my hands that way, for these impulses were not in my carnal heart, so, for fear I should be compelled to do so, I held my dress down tight to the seat on each side, to prevent such action.  The negroes are great readers of character; despise stingy people or those who were afraid of them.  These colored friends taught me the fear of God.  The first time I ever attended church, I rode behind on horseback, and sat with them in the gallery.  I imbibed some of their superstitions.  They consider it bad to allow a sharp tool, as a spade, hoe or ax, to be taken through the house; to throw salt in the fire, for you would have to pick it out after death.  They would kill a hen if she crowed; looked for a death, if a dog howled; or, if one broke a looking-glass, it meant trouble of some kind for seven years.  They believed that persons had power to put a “spell” on others, would, if taken sick, frequently speak of having “stepped on something” put in their way or buried in their dooryard.