2.	35





from Flint Hill, over de Pea Ferry road, a mile long. De barrooms of de town did a big business dat day. Seem lak it was de fashion to git drunk all ‘long

them days.

ttThem red shirts was de monkey ~‘rrench in de cotton-gin of de carpet bag

party. I‘s here to ~e1l ~jou. If a nigger git hungry, all he have to do is go to de white folk‘s house, bog for a red shirt, and explain hisseif a derriocra~. ~e might not ~it de sIiirt right then but he git his belly full of everything de ~7hite folks sot, and de privilege of corain‘ to dat trough sometixnQ a~in.

“You vrants me to tell you tbout ~îho I is, where Ï horn, and how old I is?

‘~ell, just cross exanine me and I‘ll tell you de ~Cacts as best I knows how. tu was born twelve miles east of Winnsboro, ~. G. j~T ~~~.rster say it was

de 18th of January, 18Q0.

tti~r ricther name Ann. lier b‘long ~o my inarster, James x~iarber. Dat‘s not

a fair question when you ask me ~iho ~ry daddy was • Well ‚ just say he was a white man and dat irty mother never did marry nobody, while he lived. I was de onliest

child ii~~ mother ever had.

~	ttj~f~~~ freedom niy mothor raised me on de Larse Adam iiar1~er place, up by

Rocky Liount and. Mitford. I stayed derc ttil all de ~ citeï~ent of politics die dovm. 1~r help was not wanted so much at de ‘lee-bion boxes, so I got to roarnin‘ ‘round to Lust one place end then another. But wheresomever I go, I kept a thizüc— in‘ ‘bout ~osa and de ripe may-pops in de field in cotton pickin‘ time. I landed back to de y~arber place and after a skirïaish or t~ïo wid. de old folks, marry de gal de Lord always ‘tended for me to rr~.rry. Her name was ~osa Ford. You ask me if s he was pr etty? ‘ s a strange thing • Do you ever hear a white pers on. say a colored woman is pretty‘? I never have but befo‘ God when I was tr~npin‘ ‘round Charleston, dere was a church dere called St. Mark, dat all de society folks of