"If slaves stayed in deir places dey warn't never whipped or put in
chains. When company come I knowed to get out doors. I went on to my
work. I was treated all right. I don't remember getting but three
whippings in my life. Old Mistis had brown sugar, a barrel of sugar
setting in de dinin' room. She'd go off and she'd come back and ask me
'bout de sugar. She'd get after me 'bout it and I'd say I hadn't took
it, and den when she turned my dress back and whipped me I couldn't
hardly set down. She whipped me twice 'bout the sugar and den she let me
alone. 'Twasn't de sugar she whipped me 'bout, but she was trying to get
me to tell de truth. Yes'm, dat was de best lesson dat ever I learned,
to tell de truth, like David.

"I had a large fambly. Lets see, I had ten chillun, two of 'em dead, and
I believes 'bout 40 grand-chillun. I could count 'em. Last time I was
counting de great-grandchillun dere was 37 but some have come in since
den. Maggie has 11 chillun. Maggie's husband is a farmer and dey lives
near Eastonallee. Lizzie, her husband is dead and she lives wid a
daughter in Chicago, has 5 chillun. Den Media has two. Her husband,
Hillary Campbell, works for de Govemint, in Washington. Lieutenant has
six; he farms. Robert has six; Robert is a regular old farmer and Sunday
School teacher. Davey has four, den Luther has seven, and dat leaves
Jim, my baby boy. He railroads and I lives wid him. Jim is 37. He ain't
got no chillun. My husband, Judge Miller, been dead 37 years. He's
buried at Tugalo. Dis old lady been swinging on a limb a long time and
she going to swing off from here some time. I'm near about a hundred and
I won't be here long, but when I go, I wants to go in peace wid
everybody.

"I don't know. I'd be 'feard to say dere ain't nothing in voo-doo. Some