MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME AND WHAT I REMEMBER OF MY LIFE UP TO THE
TENTH YEAR.

I was born in Garrard County, Kentucky. My father's farm was
on Dick's River, where the cliffs rose to hundreds of feet, with great
ledges of rocks, where under which I used to sit. There were many large
rocks scattered around, some as much as fifteen feet across, with holes
that held water, where my father salted his stock, and I, a little toddler,
used to follow him. On the side of the house next to the cliffs was
what we called the "Long House," where the negro women would spin
and weave. There were wheels, little and big, and a loom or two, and
swifts and reels, and winders, and everything for making linen for the
summer, and woolen cloth for the winter, both linsey and jeans.
The flax was raised on the place, and so were the sheep. When a child
5 years old, I used to bother the other spinners. I was so anxious to
learn to spin. My father had a small wheel made for me by a wright in
the neighborhood. I was very jealous of my wheel, and would spin on it
for hours. The colored women were always indulgent to me, and made
the proper sized rolls, so I could spin them. I would double the yarn, and
then twist it, and knit it into suspenders, which was a great source of
pride to my father, who would display my work to visitors on every occasion.

The dwelling house had ten rooms, all on the ground floor, except
one. I have heard my father say that it was a hewed-log house,
weather-boarded and plastered as I remember it. The room that possessed
the most attraction for me was the parlor, because I was very
seldom allowed to go in it. I remember the large gold-leaf paper on the
walls, its bright brass dogirons, as tall as myself, and the furniture of red
plush, some of which is in a good state of preservation, and the property