was; dat us could stay in Virginny an work or us could come to
Mississippi wid him. Might nigh de whole passel bun'led up an' come
back, an' glad to do it, too. Dar us all stayed 'til de family all died.
De las' one died a few years ago an' lef' us few old darkies to grieve
over 'em.

"I don' know much 'bout de Klu Klux Klan an' all dat. Dey rode 'bout at
night an' wore long white ghos'-lak robes. Dey whup folks an' had
meetin's way off in de woods at midnight. Dey done all kinds o' curious
things. None never did bother 'bout Marster's place, so I don' know much
'bout 'em.

"After de War it took a mighty long time to git things a-goin' smooth.
Folks an' de Gov'ment, too, seem lak dey was all up-set an' threatened
lak. For a long time it look lak things gwine bus' loose ag'in. Mos'
ever'thing was tore up an' burned down to de groun'. It took a long time
to build back dout no money. Den twant de gran' old place it was de
firs' time.

"I married when I was a young man. I was lucky 'nough to git de nex'
bes' woman in de worl'. (Old Mis' was de bes'.) Dat gal was so good 'til
I had to court 'er mos' two years 'fore she'd say she'd have me.

"Us had six chillun. Three of 'em's still livin'. I can't say much for
my chillun. I don' lak to feel hard, but I tried to raise my chillun de
bes' I could. I educated 'em; even bought 'em a piano an' give em'
music. One of 'em is in Memphis, 'nother'n in Detroit, an' de other'n in
Chicago. I writes to 'em to he'p me, but don' never hear from 'em. I's
old an' dey is forgot me, I guess.