... Here's where my father and
mother died, over on this page. Right here's my own children. This space
is for me and my husband.
No ma'am, it don't make me tired to talk. But I need a little time to
recall all the things you want to know 'bout. I was so little when
freedom came I just can't remember. I'll tell you, directly.
I remember that the first thing my father did was to go down to a
plantation where the bigger children was working, and bring them all
home, to live together as one family. That was a plantation where my
mother had been; a man name Moore--James Moore--owned it. I don't know
whether he had bought my mother from Beebe or not. I can remember two
things plain what happened there. I was little, but can still see them.
One of my mother's babies died and Master went to Little Rock on a horse
and carried back a little coffin under his arm. The mistress had brought
mother a big washing. She was working under the cover of the wellhouse
and tears was running down her face. When master came back, he said:
"How come you are working today, Angeline, when your baby is dead?" She
showed him the big pile of clothes she had to wash, as mistress said. He
said: "There is plenty of help on this place what can wash. You come on
in and sit by your little baby, and don't do no more work till after the
funeral.
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