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We jus got married in de kitchen and went to our log house. "I never got no beatins fum my master when I was a slave. But I seen collored men on de Bradley plantation git frammed out plenty. De whippin boss was Joe Sylvester. He had pets amongst de women folks, an let some of em off light when they deserved good beatins." "How did he punish his 'pets'?"
Tells me to make a image o' dat old witch outa dough, an tie dat string roun its neck; den when I bake it in de oven, it swell up an de magic string shet off her breath. I didn't have no ten dollar, so he say ifen I git up five dollar he make me a hand you know, what collored folks cals a jack. Dat be a charm what will keep de witches away.
He say, 'What you prayin' 'bout? An you say, 'Oh, Marster I'se jes prayin' to Jesus cause I wants to go to Heaven when I dies. An Marster say, 'Youse my negro. I git ye to Heaven. Git up off'n your knees. De white folks what owned slaves thought that when dey go to Heaven de collored folk's would be dar to wait on em.
"Well massa, you see I would like to do it mighty well; but I live six miles back, and there's so many chiller bout dare, and all the house servants dey can't be trusted. Our oberseer he's a black man, but he do any ting massa say. I don't dare trust him, and if dey kotch me, dey'd hang me, sure. But ders a collored fellah up the road, 'Free Mitchell, he'll keep you if you get dere."
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