Nor does my little book pretend to be any defence of slavery. I know
not whether it was right or wrong (there are many pros and cons on the
subject); but it was the law of the land, made by statesmen from the
North as well as the South, long before my day, or my father's or
grandfather's day; and, born under that law a slave-holder, and the
descendant of slave-holders, raised in the heart of the cotton
section, surrounded by negroes from my earliest infancy, "I KNOW
whereof I do speak"; and it is to tell of the pleasant and happy
relations that existed between master and slave that I write this
story of Diddie, Dumps, and Tot.

The stories, plantation games, and Hymns are just as I heard them in
my childhood. I have learned that Mr. Harris, in Uncle Remus, has
already given the "Tar Baby"; but I have not seen his book, and, as
our versions are probably different, I shall let mine remain just as
"Chris" told it to the "chil'en."

I hope that none of my readers will be shocked at the seeming
irreverence of my book, for that intimacy with the "Lord" was
characteristic of the negroes. They believed implicitly in a Special
Providence and direct punishment or reward, and that faith they
religiously tried to impress upon their young charges, white or black;
and "heavy, heavy hung over our heads" was the DEVIL!

The least little departure from a marked-out course of morals or
manners was sure to be followed by, "Nem' min', de deb'l gwine git
yer."

And what the Lord 'lowed and what he didn't 'low was perfectly well