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Updated: May 31, 2025
Behind them was a mass of golden-rose bushes, and out of these came forth a black face under a turban, saying, "Yes, mistis, I'se comin'." "Mammy Mammy Lucy!" The figure in the window stirred, and the sewing fell its ample lap. "Now Lawd'a mercy!" I trembled with a violence unspeakable.
There was a broad grin upon her face as she crossed the passage and knocked at the door of Hesden's room, thinking how she had flattered her mistress into a revelation of her own ignorance. She was demure enough, however, when Hesden himself opened the door and inquired what she wished. "Please, sah, de mistis tole me ter ax yer ter come inter her room, right away." "Anything the matter, Maggie?"
She had gone into exile with her "chile" and her "ole Mistis" and had come home with them to stay, untempted by the doubtful sweets of freedom. "Old Tom, her husband, had remained with Major Buford, was with him on his deathbed," said Margaret, "and was on the place still, too old, he said, to take root elsewhere."
"My young mistis des seein' her mammy 'bout her clos," replied the quick-witted Zany. "I thought I yeared voices down by the run." "Reck'n you bettah go see," said Zany in rather high tones. "What the dev what makes yer speak so loud? a warnin'?" "Tain' my place ter pass wuds wid you, Marse Perkins. Dem I serbs doan fin' fault." "I reckon Mr. Baron'll do mo'n find fault 'fore long.
It seems but last year when we skipped hand in hand to Marlboro' Street with Mammy Lucy behind us. Are you coming, mammy?" she called. "Yes, mistis, I'se comin'," said a voice from behind the golden-rose bushes, and out stepped Aunt Lucy in a new turban, making a curtsey to me. "La, Marse Richard!" said she, "to think you'se growed to be a fine gemman!
I keeps it nice an' clean jus' lak I learnt how to do frum de white folks where I used to work. I aint never work for no common folks. I tries to live lak a Christian an' do jus' lak Old Mistis say. Den when I die I can go to Heaven." Mississippi Federal Writers Slave Autobiographies Smith Hodges, Ex-Slave, Pike County FEC Mrs. W.F. Holmes
"It ain't true," said Elsy, "my mistis is a born lady, and she wouldn't steal for anyting. I don't beliebe a word ob it." "I don't beliebe neider," replied the old woman, "but for all dat, dey did carry her to prison because dey say she steal money."
I carried de foot tub in at night an' washed dey foots, an' I'd pull de trun'le bed out from under de other bed. All de boys slep' in de same room. "Den I were a yard boy an' waited on de young marster an' mistis. Hadn' been to de fiel' den hadn' worked yet. "Mr. Stephenson were a surveyor an' he fell out wid Mr. McAllum an' had a lawsuit. He had to pay it in darkies. Mr.
"Hi, Mistis," broke in Uncle Balla, "whar is I got to go? I wuz born on dis place an' I 'spec' to die here, an' be buried right yonder;" and he turned and pointed up to the dark clumps of trees that marked the graveyard on the hill, a half mile away, where the colored people were buried. "Dat I does," he affirmed positively. "Y' all sticks by us, and we'll stick by you."
At first she listened with incredulity and resentment; then conviction seemed to force itself upon her mind, and anger succeeded to astonishment. Calling her serving woman, she asked impetuously: "Maggie, is your Master Hesden about the house?" "Really now mistis," said the girl in some confusion, "I can't edsackly tell.
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