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"Dey were a heap o' talk 'bout de Yankees a-givin' ever' Nigger forty acres an' a mule. I don't know how us come to hear 'bout it. It jus' kinda got aroun'. I picked out my mule. All o' us did. "Times were mighty tough. Us thought us knowed trouble endurin' de war. Um-m-m! Us didn' know nothin' 'bout trouble. "Dey were so many slaves at McAllum's, dey had to thin 'em out. Scott close to Scooba.
McAllum, I see you an' Sam eatin' peanuts comin' along. Jus' you give me a han'ful an' I'll eat dem on de way to de gallows. I don't want no whiskey." "'Den us got on de wagon. "'Den come a rider from Scooba, pull a paper from his pocket, an' han' it to Mr. Sinclair. He read it an' say," Let de people go on to de gallows. De wagon turn 'roun' an' go back to de jail."
He brung 'im home to die an' he done it. "Den de Yankees come th'ough DeKalb huntin' up cannons an' guns an' mules. Dey sho' did eat a heap. Dey didn' burn nothin', but us hear'd tell o' burnin's in Scooba an' Meridian. I were a-plowin' a mule an' de Yankees made me take him out. De las' I seen o' dat mule, he were headed for Scooba wid three Yankees a-straddle of 'im.
Let's sen' to Scooba an' git Charlie Rosenbaum an' John Gilmore to come help dey frien's. Dey b'longs to dat Chisolm crowd an' we want dem, too." "'So dey come. Somebody say, "Let's commence right here." I never seen a battle b'fore, but I sho' seen one den. It were lak dis: Mr. Cal Hull was de only democratic white frien' Mr. Rosenbaum had. He stood' twixt his white democratic frien's an' Mr.
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