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as I can recollect. Old 31g ~.ndy Angel‘s white folks had him put ~ in jail a heap of times, because he was a rogue and stole everything he could get his hands on. Nearly everybody was atraid of hint; he was a great big double jointed man, end was black as the ace Qt spades. No, mami I never saw any slaves sold, but ray father‘s mother and his sister were sold on the block. The white folks that bought ‘em took them away. After the war was over my tather tried to locate ‘em, but never once did he get on the right track of ‘em.

	“Oh! Why, my white folks took a great deal of pains teaching their slaves how to read and write. My father could read, but he never learned to write, and it was from our white folks. that I learned to read and write. Slaves read the Bible more than any~ thing else. There were no churches for slaves on Marse ~eorge‘s plantation, so we all went to the whité folks‘ church, about two miles away; it was called Clarke‘s Chapel. Sometimes we went to church at Cross Roads; that was about the saine distance across sugar Fork River. My mother was baptized in that Sugar Fork River by a white preacher, but that is the reason I joined the Baptist church, because my mother was a Baptist, and I was so crazy about her, and am ‘tu yet.

	“There were no funeral parlors in those days. They just funeralized the dead in their own homes, took them to the graveyard in a painted home-made coffin that was lined with thin bleaching made in the loom on the plantation, and. buried them in a grave that dt t have any bri eka or cement about it . That brings to my memory