"None of our Niggers never knowed enough 'bout de North to run off up
dar. Lak I done told you, some of 'em did run off atter a bad beatin',
but dey jus' went to de woods. Some of 'em come right on back, but some
didn't; Us never knowed whar dem what didn't come back went. Show me a
slavery-time Nigger dat ain't heared 'bout paterollers! Mistess, I 'clar
to goodness, paterollers was de devil's own hosses. If dey cotched a
Nigger out and his Marster hadn't fixed him up wid a pass, it was jus'
too bad; dey most kilt him. You couldn't even go to de Lord's house on
Sunday 'less you had a ticket sayin': 'Dis Nigger is de propity of Marse
Joe McWhorter. Let him go.'
"Dere warn't never no let-up when it come to wuk. When slaves come in
from de fields atter sundown and tended de stock and et supper, de mens
still had to shuck corn, mend hoss collars, cut wood, and sich lak; de
'omans mended clothes, spun thread, wove cloth, and some of 'em had to
go up to de big house and nuss de white folks' babies. One night my ma
had been nussin' one of dem white babies, and atter it dozed off to
sleep she went to lay it in its little bed. De child's foot cotch itself
in Marse Joe's galluses dat he had done hung on de foot of de bed, and
when he heared his baby cry Marse Joe woke up and grabbed up a stick of
wood and beat ma over de head 'til he 'most kilt her.
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