decayed. De overseer driv dem 'omans clear off de plantation, and
Marster, he was mighty mad. He said he had done lost 'bout $2,000. If he
had kotched dem 'omans he woulda hung 'em, cause he was de hanger. In
'bout two weeks dat overseer left dar, and Old Marse had to git him
anudder man to take his place.

"Sho! Dere was a jail for slaves and a hangin' place right in front of
de jail, but none of Old Marster's Niggers warn't never put in no
jailhouse. Oh God! Yes, dey sold slaves. My own granddaddy was made to
git up on dat block, and dey sold him. One time I seed Old Marse buy
four boys." At this point the narrative ceased when Addie suddenly
remembered that she must stop to get supper for the daughter, who would
soon be returning from work.

The visitor called early in the morning of the following day, and found
Addie bent over her washtubs in the back yard. "Have dat cheer," was the
greeting as the old Negress lifted a dripping hand to point out a chair
under the spreading branches of a huge oak tree, "You knows you don't
want to hear no more 'bout dat old stuff," she said, "and anyhow, is you
gittin' paid for doin' dis?" When the visitor admitted that these
interviews were part of her salaried work, Addie quickly asked: "What is
you gwine to give me?"

When the last piece of wash had been hung on the line and Addie had
turned a large lard can upside down for a stool, she settled down and
began to talk freely.

"No Ma'm, dey didn't low Niggers to larn how to read and write. I had to
go wid de white chillun to deir school on Hog Mountain road evvy day to
wait on 'em. I toted water for 'em kep' de fire goin', and done all