"All us chillun used to pick cotton for Marster, and he bought all our
clothes and shoes. One day he told me and Mary dat us could go to de
store and git us a pair of shoes apiece. 'Course us knowed what kind of
shoes he meant for us to git, but Mary wanted a fine pair of Sunday
shoes and dat's what she picked out and tuk home. Me, I got brass-toed
brogans lak Marster meant for us to git. 'Bout half way home Mary put on
her shoes and walked to de big house in 'em. When Marster seed 'em he
was sho' mad as a hornet, but it was too late to take 'em back to de
store atter de shoes had done been wore and was all scratched up.
Marster fussed: 'Blast your hide, I'm a good mind to thrash you to
death.' Mary stood dar shakin' and tremblin', but dat's all Marster ever
said to her 'bout it. Us heared him tell Mist'ess dat dat gal Mary was a
right smart Nigger.

"Marster had a great big old bull dat was mighty mean. He had real long
horns, and he could lift de fence railin's down one by one and turn all
de cows out. Evvy time he got out he would fight us chillun, so Marster
had to keep him fastened up in de stable. One day when us wanted to play
in de stable, us turned Old Camel (dat was de bull) out in de pasture.
He tuk down rails enough wid his horns to let de cows in Marster's fine
gyarden and dey et it all up. Marster was wuss dan mad dat time, but us
hid in de barn under some hay 'til he went to bed. Next mornin' he
called us all up to git our whuppin', but us cried and said us wouldn't
never do it no more so our good old Marster let us off dat time.

"Lak I done said before, I stayed on dar 'til Marster died, den I
married Matthew Hartsfield. Lordy, Chile, us didn't have no weddin'. I
had on a new calico dress and Matthew wore some new blue jeans breeches.
De Reverend Hargrove, de white folks preacher, married us and nobody
didn't know nothin' 'bout it 'til it was all over. Us went to Oglethorpe