"It seems to me," I said, resuming the previous thread of the conversation; "that overseers are a necessity on a large plantation." "Wal, the' ar', an' thet's why thar ortent ter be no big plantations; God Almighty didn't make human bein's ter be herded togethar in th' woods like hogs. No man orter ter hev more'n twenty on 'em—he can't look arter no more himself, an' its agin natur ter set a feller over 'em what hain't no int'rest in 'em, an' no feelin' fur 'em, an' who'll drive 'em round like brutes. I never struck one on 'em in my life, an' my ten du more'n ony fifteen th' Cunnel's got."
"I thought they needed occasional correction. How do you manage them without whipping?"
"Manage them! why 'cordin' ter scriptur—do ter 'em as I'd like ter be dun ter, ef I war a nigger. Every one on 'em knows I'd part with my last shirt, an' live on taters an' cow-fodder, fore I'd sell em; an' then I give 'em Saturdays for 'emselfs—but thet's cute dealin' in me (tho' th' pore, simple souls doant see it), fur ye knows the' work thet day for 'emselfs, an' raise nigh all thar own feed, 'cept th' beef and whiskey—an' it sort o' makes 'em feel like folks, too, more like as ef the' war free—the' work th' better fur it all th' week."
"Then you think the blacks would work better if free?"
"In course I does—its agin man's natur to be a slave. Thet lousy parson ye herd ter meetin, a Sunday, makes slavery eout a divine institooshun, but my wife's a Bible 'oman, and she says 'taint so; an' I'm d——d ef she arn't right."
"Is your wife a South Carolina women?"
"No, she an' me's from th' old North—old Car'tret, nigh on ter Newbern; an' we doant take nat'rally to these fire-eaters."
"Have you been here long?"
"Wal, nigh on ter six yar. I cum har with nuthin' but a thousan' ter my back—slapped thet inter fifteen hun'red acres—paid it down—and then hired ten likely, North Car'lina niggers—hired 'em with th' chance uv buyin' ef the' liked eout har. Wal, th' nigs all know'd me, and the' sprung ter it like blazes; so every yar I've managed ter buy two on 'em, and now I've ten grow'd up, and thar young'uns; th' still and all th' traps paid fur, an' ef this d——d secesh bis'ness hadn't a come 'long, I'd hev hed a right smart chance o' doin' well."
"I'm satisfied secession will ruin the turpentine business; you'll be shut up here, unable to sell your produce, and it will go to waste."