“No, sar! I was born in Varginny! in ole Varginny, mass’r. I was raised in —— county [in the West]. I was twenty-two year ole when I came away from thar, and I’ve been in this country, forty year come next Christmas.”
“Then you are sixty years old.”
“Yes, sar, amos’ sixty. But I’d like to go back to Varginny. Ho, ho! I ’ould like to go back and live in ole Varginny, again.”
“Why so? I thought niggers generally liked this country best—I’ve been told so—because it is so warm here.”
“Ho, ho! it’s mos’ too warm here, sometime, and I can’t work at my trade here. Sometimes for three months I don’ go in my shop, on’y Sundays to work for mysef.”
“What is your trade?”
“I’m a blacksmith, mass’r. I used to work at blacksmithing all the time in ole Virginny, ironin’ waggons, and shoein’ horses for the folks that work in the mines. But here, can’t get nothun’ to do. In this here sile, if you sharpen up a plough in the spring o’ the year, it’ll last all summer, and horses don’ want shoeing once a year, here on the parara. I’ve got a good mass’r here, tho’; the ole man ain’t hard on his niggers.”
“Was your master hard in Virginia?”
“Well, I wos hired to different mass’rs, sar, thar, afore I wos sole off. I was sole off to a sheriff’s sale, mass’r: I wos sole for fifteen hunerd an’ fifty dollars; I fetched that on the block, cash, I did, and the man as bought me he brung me down here, and sole me for two thousand two hunerd dollars.”
“That was a good price; a very high price in those days.”