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Dey wuz knocked out to ole marster dough, an' den dey hed a big lawsuit, an' ole marster wuz agwine to co't, off an' on, fur some years, till at lars' de co't decided dat M'ria belonged to ole marster. Ole Cun'l Chahmb'lin den wuz so mad he sued ole marster for a little strip o' lan' down dyah on de line fence, whar he said belonged to 'im. Ev'ybody knowed hit belonged to ole marster.

The women could sew, cook, card, spin, weave, knit, wash, iron, in fact what they produced in this way would put to shame the acquirements and accomplishments of free labor. Many of the older negroes refused to be freed, when the mighty proclamation came. They would not withdraw from the protection of "Old Marster." Look at the product of these two generations of freedom. What is he?

He took a cramp colic in de night an' was dead 'fore mornin'. I hear somebody a-cryin' at de Big House an' Granny tol' us dat Old Marster done die in de night. Dey had a big fun'al an' all de folks come. De men carried him to de graveyard by de church. Dey didn' have no hearses dem days. Twant far to de graveyard so dey jus' toted de coffin to whar dey buried 'im.

Hit 'peared like her pra'r wuz heard; for in a minit, right out de same do', kyarin' Ham Fisher in his arms, come ole marster, wid his clo's all blazin'. Dey flung water on 'im, an' put 'im out; an', ef you b'lieve me, yo' wouldn't a-knowed 'twuz ole marster.

"Oon marster be glad to see me?" he asked presently in pathetic simplicity. "You know we grewed up to-gerr? I been waitin' so long I 'feared dee 'mos' done forgit me. You reckon dee is?" he asked the woman, appealingly. "No, suh, dee ain' forgit you," she said, comfortingly. "I know dee ain'," he said, reassured. "Dat's what he tell me he ain' nuver gwine forgit me."

An' two redbreasts had carried him to the round house, sir, afore they discovered his title. An' since his Grace ha' said time an' time afore Whipple, that he'll ha' Mr. Carvel's heart for that, and has called you most disgustin' bad names, sir. An' Whipple he says to me: 'Banks, drop your marster a word, an' you get the chance. His Grace'll speak him fair to's face, but let him look behind him."

"Den he tole me he wuz goin' to fight a duil, an' in case he should git shot, he had set me free an' giv' me nuff to tek keer o' me an' my wife ez long ez we lived. He said he'd like me to stay an' tek keer o' ole marster an' ole missis ez long ez dey lived, an' he said it wouldn' be very long, he reckoned.

Lemme come in a minute!" Ben was not sure. He picked up a heavy cane, held it in his right hand and cautiously opened the door with his left, as Sam entered. The old man dropped the cane and stepped back in dumb amazement. It was some time before he spoke. "Name er Gawd, Sam hit is you." "Sho, hit's me!" "What yer doin' here?" "I come to see my old marster when I hears all dis talk 'bout war.

I needs milk en cod liver oil fer dis lettle boy but can't buy it. I dunno nothin' 'bout slave uprisin's. De songs I member ez: "All Gawds Chilluns up Yonder." "I want ter Shout Salvation." "Down by de River Side." INTERVIEW NARCISSUS YOUNG Rear 532 1st Street No. Nashville, Tennessee "I'se 96 y'ars ole. Bawn in slavery en mah marster wuz Isham Lamb en mah missis wuz Martha Lamb.

"Good-night, Lois," he said, kindly, as she lighted his lamp. He put some money on the table. "You must take it," as she looked uneasy. "For Tiger's board, say. I never see him now. A bright new frock, remember." She thanked him, her eyes brightening, looking at her father's patched coat. The old man followed Holmes out. "Marster Holmes" "Have done with this," said Holmes, sternly.