When de war was over, young miss she come in an she say, 'Clara, you's
as free as I am.' 'No, I ain't.' says I. 'Yes, you is,' says she. 'What
you goin' to do?' 'I's goin' to stay an' work for you.' says I. 'No'
says she, 'you ain't cause I can't pay you.' 'Well,' says I, 'I'll go
home to see my old mother.' 'Tell you what,' says she, 'I ain't got nuff
money to send you, only part--so you go down to whar' dey is a'pannin'
gold. You kin git a Job at $2.00 per day.'

Many's a day I've stood in water up to my waist pannin' gold. In dem
days dey worked women jest like men. I worked hard, an' young miss took
care of me. When I got ready to come home I bought my stage fare an' I
carried $300 on me back to my ol' mother.

De trip took six weeks. Everywhere de stage would stop young miss had
writ a note to somebody and de stage coach men give it to 'em an dey
took care of me--good care.

When I got home to my mother I found dat ol' miss had give all of 'em
somthin' along with settin 'em free. My mother had 12 children so she
git de mos'. She git a horse, a milk cow, 8 killin' hogs and 50 bushels
of corn. She moved off to a little house on ol' miss's plantation and
make a crop on halvers. She stay on dar for three--four years. Den she
move off into another county where she could go to meetin without havin'
to cross de river. An' I stayed on wid her an help her farm--I could
plow as good as a man in dem days.

Finally I hear dat you could make more money in Hot Springs, so I come
to see. My mother was dead by dat time. De first year I made a crop for
Mr. Clay--my granddaughter cooks and tends to children for some of his
folks today. When I went to town an I washed at de Arlington hotel. It