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Updated: June 18, 2025
Den it was washed off wid salt, an' de nigger was put right back in de fiel'. Dey was whupped fer runnin' away. Sometimes dey run afte' 'em fer days an nights with dem big old blood houn's. Heap o' people doan b'lieve dis. But I does, 'cause I seed it myse'f. "I'se lived here forty-five years, an' chipped turpentine mos' all my life since I was free. "I'se had three wives.
He was tired of living in town and sought the quietude of the hills. "Bein' as dat ere fiel' ain't good foh much, I thought you might be willin' to paht with it," explained Pop. The farmer eventually agreed to build a shanty on the field and sell it to Pop for $180. Pop desired immediate occupancy.
But I am becoming too scientific and geographical; and I must confess that it was not till many years after the time of which I am speaking that I knew anything about the matter. My father, Don Martin Fiel, had been for some years settled in Quito as a merchant.
"What is it?" "Law, honey, it ain't wrote. Dem Dago folks hain't got no writin' ner readin'. Dey mo' er less like de beasts er de fiel'. Dat message by word er mouf. I goin' tell nuffin 'bout de quahumteem. I'm gotter say: 'Toby sen' word to liebuh Augustine dat she needn' worry.
"Jes' lemme tell you dis h'yar, Letty," said he, after making up the fire and seating himself on a stool near by, "ef you want to see ole miss come back rarin' an' chargin', jes' you let her know dat Miss Null is gwine ter plough de clober fiel' for pickles." "Wot's dat fool talk?" asked Letty. "Miss Null's gwine to boss dis farm, dat's all," said Isham.
Nex' mawnin' afte' dat she died. De hired man tol' de rest if dey said anything 'bout it to de marster, he'd beat dem to death, too, so ever'body kep' quiet an' de marster neber knowed. "We worked hard in de fiel' all day, but when dark come we would all go to de Quarters an' afte' supper we would set 'roun' an' sing an' talk.
I was born right out thar, but my mammy was brung down frum Ten'see. She come by heir to Marse Jim but 'fo that her was sol' for ten hun'erd dollars. My mammy was a big sportly woman an' brung a lot er money an' my pappy, he brung nine hun'erd. Marse Jim bought him offen de block, but I don't know jes whar frum. I jes 'members 'bout hearin' him tell 'bout bein' sol'. "Bofe of dem was fiel' han's.
Den he says, 'Jim, dissen's 'bout you. It gives yo' birthday. "I recollec' a heap' bout slav'ry-times, but I's all by myse'f now. All o' my frien's has lef' me. Even Marse Fleming has passed on. He was a little boy when I was a grown man. "I was born in a cotton fiel' in cotton pickin' time, an' de wimmins fixed my mammy up so she didn' hardly lose no time at all. My mammy sho' was healthy.
"De mistis used to teach us de Bible on Sund'ys an' us always had Sund'y school. Us what lived in de Big House an' even some o' de fiel' han's was taught to read an' write by de white folks. "De fiel' han's sho' had a time wid dat man, Duncan. He was de overseer man out at de plantation. Why, he'd have dem poor Niggers so dey didn' know if dey was gwine in circles or what.
Do you know where the ploughing is to be done?" "Oh, yaas'm," said Uncle Isham, "dar ain't on'y one place fur dat. It's de clober fiel', ober dar, on de udder side ob de gyarden." "And what is to be planted in it?" asked Mrs Null. "Ob course dey's gwine to plough for wheat," answered Uncle Isham, a little surprised at the question.
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