others would git 'em by de heels and drag 'em off to one side 'til dey
come to and was ready to drink more liquor and dance again. Dat was de
way dey went on de rest of de night.

"Corpses! Buryin's! Graveyards! Why, Miss, dere warn't nigh so many
folkses a-dyin' all de time dem days as dere is now. Folkses lived right
and was tuk better keer of and dere warn't so much reason for 'em to die
out den. When somebody did die, folkses come from miles and miles around
to de buryin'. Dey give de slaves de same sort of funerals de white
folkses had. De corpses was washed good all over wid hot water and
home-made soap, den dey was dressed and laid out on de coolin' boards
'til de cyarpenter man had time to make up de coffins. Lordy, Missy,
ain't you never seed no coolin' board? I 'spects dey is all gone now
though. Dey looked a good deal lak ironin' boards, only dey had laigs to
stand on. Lots of times dey didn't dress de corpses, but jus' wropped
'em in windin' sheets. Dem home-made, pine coffins didn't look so bad
atter dey got 'em painted up and lined nice. Dey driv de wagon what had
de corpse on it right slow to de graveyard. De preacher talked a little
and prayed; den atter de mourners had done sung somepin on de order of
_Harps [HW: Hark?] From De Tomb_, dey shovelled in de dirt over de
coffin whilst de preacher said comfortin' words to de fambly of de daid.
Evvy plantation had its own graveyard wid a fence around it, and dere
was a place in it for de slaves 'nigh whar deir white folks was buried.

"Honey, didn't you never hear tell of Dr. Frank Jackson? He was sho' a
grand doctor. Dr. Jackson made up his own medicines and toted 'em 'round
wid him all de time. He was close kin to our Marse Andy Jackson's
fambly. All dem Jacksons down in 'Conee was good white folks.

"Us stayed on wid Old Marster for a little while atter de war was over,