happy.

"What did I do after the war was over? I farmed. I farmed all my life,
'til I got too old. I stopped three--four years ago. I lives with my
son--Dave Robinson--the one I named for my master.

"How did I farm? Did I share crop? No, ma'am!" (Sharply as tho
repramanding the inquirer for an undeserved insult.) "I didn't share
crop, except just at first to get a start. I rented. I paid thirds and
fourths. I always rented. I wasn't a share-cropper.[A]

[A: Socially and economically sharp distinctions are drawn between the
different classes of renters, both by owners and tenants themselves.
Families whom ambition and circumstances have allowed to accumulate
enough surplus to buy farm implements and have food for a year ahead
look with scorn on fellow farmers who thru inertia or bad luck must be
furnished food and the wherewithall to farm. In turn, families that have
forged ahead sufficiently to be able to pay cash rent on farms they
cultivate look down On both of the other groups.]

"It was awful hard going after the war. But I got me a place--had to
share-crop for a year or two. But I worked hard and saved all I could.
Pretty soon I had me enough that I could rent. I always raised the usual
things--cotton and corn and potatoes and a little truck and that sort of
thing--always raised enough to eat for us and the stock--and then some
cotton for a cash crop.

"My first wife, well it was kind of funny; I wasn't more than 19. She
had 11 children. Some of them was older than I was. No ma'am it wasn't
so hard on me. They was all old enough to take care of themselves. I