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Updated: June 22, 2025
Voted my first time for Blaine." "Yes I votes sometimes now, when dey come gits me. An befo I got sick, I would ride the street car to town. An I goes down to de Court House, and when I see dem cannons in deyard I cain keep from cryin'. My wife arsk me what make me go look at dem cannon ef'n dey makes me cry. An I tells her I cry 'bout de good and de bad times dem cannon bringed us.
Ef'n she spy out a speck er dus' on dem ar wheels, somebody gwine year f'om it, sho's you bo'n en dat somebody wuz me. Yes, Lawd, Ole Miss she 'low dat dey ain' never been nuttin' like dat ar car'ige in Varginny sence befo' de flood." "But where is it, Big Abel?" "You des wait, young Marster, you des wait twel I git dar.
"Ef'n you don' min', Ole Miss, Paisley, she done got de colick f'om a hull pa'cel er green apples," and "Abram he's des a-shakin' wid a chill en he say he cyarn go ter de co'n field." "Wait a minute and be quiet," the old lady responded briskly, for, as the boy soon learned, she prided herself upon her healing powers, and suffered no outsider to doctor her husband or her slaves.
"Well, he ain't got ter be lef'," said Mammy; "I wuz allers larnt ter 'spect ole folks myse'f, an' ef'n dis wagin goes, why den Daddy Jake's got ter go in it;" and, Major and Mrs. Waldron having gone, Mammy was the next highest in command, and from her decision there was no appeal. "How come yer ter git lef', Daddy," asked Uncle Snake-bit Bob, as the old man came up hobbling on his stick.
Ef'n we wan'ed ter go ter any place we had ter hab a pass wid our Marster's name on hit en ef you didn' hab hit, you got tore ter pieces en den you Marster tore you up w'en you got home." "One story mah daddy useter tell us wuz 'bout a slave named Pommpy. He wuz allus prayin' fer de good Lawd ter tek 'im 'way.
An ef'n it was a Yank come 'long, he say too, 'What you prayin' 'bout? You gives de same 'sponse. An he say, 'We'se gwine save you. We goin' to set you free. You wants to be free, dont you? 'Yessir, Boss! 'Well den, Yank say, come go 'long wid me. Ain no use keep sayin' 'Please sir Boss, I'll have to arsk my Master. Yank say, 'what you mean, Marster? You aint got no Marster.
You may ding about hit en you may dung about hit, but ef'n it won't, hit won't." Moses, a meek-looking negro with an honest face, hoed silently, making no response to his mother-in-law's vituperations, which grew voluble before his non-resistance. "Dar ain' no use er my frettin' en perfumin' over dat ar nigger," she concluded, as if addressing a third person.
But he keeps you tied, so's you wont jump down and run away. An many's de time a prayin' negro got took off like dat, and want never seen no more." "'Course ef'n you goes wid em, you 'member your trainin' and 'fore you leaves de field, you stacks your hoe nice, like you was quittin' de days work. Dey learned the little'uns to do dat, soon's dey begins to work in de fields.
Ef'n de briars wouldn't come out'n it soon ez she laid her han' on 'em, Ole Miss she turnt up her nose en thowed de wool on ter de niggers' pile. Hit had ter be pisonous white en sof fo' hit 'ud tech Ole Missusses skin. Noner yo' nappy stuff done come near her." Uncle Ish chuckled and hung his head on his breast. "Doze wuz times!" he cried, "doze wuz times, en dese ain't times!"
"Mammy tole us how de sta'rs fell en how skeered eberybody got. I saw de long tail comet." Signs: "Good luck ter git up 'fore day-lite ef'n youer gwin sum place er start sum wuk." "Bad luck ter sweep flo' atter dark en sweep de dirt out." Songs: "I Couldn't Hear Anybody Pray." "Ole Time 'Ligion." "Cross De Riber Jordan." "I'se neber voted, en hab neber had any frens in office.
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