"They wuz some flowers ’round de house. Snow-balls, batchelor-buttons, old-maids; jes’ such old-fashion ones, no roses, n’er nuthin’ like dat.
"Massa’ raise some cotton, but ’Ole Massa’ Hanover had sech a big cotton patch yuh couldn’t look across it. An’ dey all kind’a fowls yu’d find any where’s, guinie’s, ducks, n’ geese, n’ turkey’s, n’ peafowl’s, an’ lotsa chicken’s a’ ’cose.
"My mamma could hunt good ez any man. Us’tuh be a coup’la pedluh men come ’round wuth they packs. My mammy’d a’ways have a pile o’ hides tuh trade with ’em fer calico prints n’ trinkets, n’ sech-like, but mos’ly fo’ calico prints. She’d have coon hides n’ deer n’ mink, n’ beavers, lawd! I kin still hear dem beavers splashin’ ’round dat dam. Dis time 'er marning’ dey’s a’way’s shore busy. An’ folks in cities goes tuh pawks now to see sech animal. Hun! Ah seen all ’em things ah wants tuh see.
"Good Lawd! We didden’ know whut church wuz n’er school nuther, an’ the whites nevuh nuther. Dey wuz a couple o’ men us’ta come by, an’ hole a camp meetin’. Dey’d build a big arbuh, with branches o’ leaves over de top, an’ build benches; dey’d come aftuh crops wuz laid by, an’ preach 'til cotton wuz openin’. Ah never know’d whut sect dey belong to, n’er whar dey go, n’er what dey come fum ’nuther.
"Yes’m, we seed sojers, an’ we seed lot’s o’ ’em. Dah wuz de 'blue-coats’; some o’ de folks call’em Bluebelly Yank’s, dey had fine blue coats an’ the brass buttons all ovuh the front o’ ’em shinin’ like stahs. Dey call us little cullud folks’, ’cubs’, an’ dey burn down Jonesburg. Yes’m we seed Jonesburg down in ashes. Dem ’blue-coats’ wuz devils, but de ’gray-coats’ wuz wusser. Dey turn over our bee-gums an’ dey kill our steers, an’ carry off our provisions, an’ whut dey couldn’t carry off dey ruint. Den dey go roun’ killin’ all de cullud men an’ bayanettin’ de chillern.
"No, dat wuzzen’ de ’gray-coats’ doin’ de killin’, dat wuz ’bushwackers’ an’ ’Ku Klux’ers’, dey sho’ wuz bad. Dey shot my little sistuh in back of her neck an’ day shot me in de laig. See dat scar, dat whar dey shoot me. An’ dey kill my gran’fathuh; dey sho’ did.
"Gran’fathuh’s name wuz ’Jim Hanover’. ’Ole Massa Hanover’, he wuz a lawyer, an’ he educated mah gran’fathuh tuh be a overseuh. He lived wid’ 'Massa Hanover’ for long time. He wuz a good man, mah gran’fathuh wuz, an’ he wuz smart too, an’ when de war surrenduh, dey make him Mayor of Pie-hatten, an’ he made a good mayor too; people all said so, an’ dey wuz gonna’ ’lect him fo’ foe mo’ year, an’ de ’Ku Klux’ers said dey wuzzen’ gonna have no ’nigguh’ mayor. So dey tuk him out an’ killed him. Dey wuz awful times. Now you know dat wuzzen right an’ who’s de curse fo’ such things gonna rest on?