chickens, barbecued hogs and lambs, pies, and lots of watermelons. Us
kept de watermelons in de crick 'til dey was ready to cut 'em. A white
gentleman, what dey called Mr. Kilpatrick, done most of de preachin'. He
was from de White Plains neighborhood. He sho' did try mighty hard to
git evvybody to 'bey de Good Lord and keep his commandments.

"Mr. Kilpatrick preached all de funerals too. It 'pears lak a heap more
folks is a-dyin' out dese days dan died den, and folks was a heap better
den to folks in trouble. Dey would go miles and miles den when dey
didn't have no auto'biles, to help folks what was in trouble. Now, dey
won't go next door when dere's death in de house. Den, when anybody died
de fust thing dey done was to shroud 'em and lay 'em out on de coolin'
board 'til Old Marster's cyarpenter could git de coffin made up. Dere
warn't no embalmers dem days and us had to bury folks de next day atter
dey died. De coffins was jus' de same for white folks and deir slaves.
On evvy plantation dere was a piece of ground fenced in for a graveyard
whar dey buried white folks and slaves too. My old Daddy is buried down
yonder on Marse Henry's plantation right now.

"When a slave wanted to git married up wid a gal, he didn't ax de gal,
but he went and told Marster 'bout it. Marster would talk to de gal and
if she was willin', den Marster would tell all de other Niggers us was
a-goin' to have a weddin'. Dey would all come up to de big house and
Marster would tell de couple to jine hands and jump backwards over a
broomstick, and den he pernounced 'em man and wife. Dey didn't have to
have no licenses or nothin' lak dey does now. If a man married up wid
somebody on another place, he had to git a pass from his Marster, so as
he could go see his wife evvy Wednesday and Sadday nights. When de
patterollers cotched slaves out widout no passes, dey evermore did beat
'em up. Leastways dat's what Mammy told me.