"I lived mighty fine in dem days, I tel' you. Mister Ben Martin Jones
was my Marster, and I was born on de Red Bridge Road. I was a house
servant. All our clo'es was made at de quarters. My Mammy made mine an'
all I wanted, too. I useter hear my mammy say, de patteroles (patrols)
would git us ef we done wrong but I didn't know nothin' 'bout
patteroles, 'cause dey wasn't none on our place. Dey whipped you, too,
but my Marster could control all his niggers so he didn't 'low none uv
'em on our place.
"I was 21 years ole when de Yankees come but I didn't run and dey didn't
do nuthin' to me but folks was in such a hurry they hid things dat ain't
never been foun' yet. I liked meetin' on Sundays an' sometime we never
got outer church tell daylight. I wants to live jes' as long as Jesus
say an' when he say go, I'se ready. At Christmas times we always had
good dinners and heap o' company; plenty uv it. My Missus died and atter
dat my mother raised ole Marster's chile, Tommy John, right 'long wid
me. O, dem was happy days, I tell you."