"But all and all, white folks, den was de really happy days for us niggers. Course we didn’t hab de ’vantages dat we has now, but dere wus somp’n’ back dere dat we ain’t got now, an’ dat’s secu’aty. Yassuh, we had somebody to go to when we was in trouble. We had a Massa dat would fight fo’ us an’ help us an’ laugh wid us an’ cry wid us. We had a Mistis dat would nuss us when we was sick, an’ comfort us when we hadda be punished. I sometimes wish I could be back on de ole place. I kin see de cool-house now packed wid fresh butter an’ milk an’ cream. I can see de spring down amongst de willows an’ de water a trickling down between little rocks. I can hear de turkeys a gobblin’ in de yard and de chickens a runnin’ aroun’ in de sun, an’ shufflin’ in de dus’. I can see de bend in de creek jus’ below our house, an’ de cows as dey come to drink in de shallow water an’ gits dere feets cool.
[Illustration: _Nicey Pugh, Prichard, Alabama_]
"Yassuh, white folks, you ain’t neber seed nothin’ lak it so you can’t tell de joy you gits f’um lookin’ for dewberries an’ a-huntin’ guinea pigs, an’ settin’ in de shade of a peach tree, reachin’ up an’ pullin’ off a ripe peach and eatin’ it slow. You ain’t neber seed your people gathered ’bout an’ singin’ in de moonlight or heered de lark at de break of day. You ain’t neber walked acrost a frosty fiel’ in de early mornin’, an’ gone to de big house to build a fire for your Mistis, an’ when she wake up slow have her say to you: ’Well, how’s my little nigger today?’
"Nawsuh, jus’ lak I told you at fus’. I was bawn a slave, but I ain’t neber been one. I’se been a worker for good peoples. You wouldn’t calls dat bein’ a slave would you, white folks?"
*Personal conversation with Sallie Reynolds* *552 South Conception Street, Mobile, Alabama* —_Compiled by Mary A. Poole_
_SATAN’S GOIN’ ’ROUND WID HIS TAIL CURLED UP_
Sally Reynolds, living at 552 South Conception street, was busy at the wash tub when the writer called to interview her on July 20, 1937, so it being a hot day we decided to continue our conversation out doors under the washshed amid a conglomeration of tubs, buckets, empty boxes, etc.
Sallie said she was born in Hiltown, Georgia, where her mother Margaret Owens was a slave and the cook on the plantation of Mr. Lit Albritton. When Sallie was about three years of age her mother gave her to Mrs. Becke Albritton, who lived at New Providence, near Rutledge in Crenshaw County, Alabama, to whom she was bound until 21 years of age. There was also a brother given by her mother to some folks in Florida and of whom Sallie never had any knowledge whatever.