“It wuz covered wid blood an’ misery. De dungeon house wuz heavy wid groans, an’ teahs, an’ agonies.
“My missy wuz good to me, as good as she could be to a slave. But all my chillen, one aftah anoder, wuz stole away from me.
“Aftah havin’ fo’teen chillen, lubbin’ ebery one ob ’em, like I would die ef dey wuz tuck away from me—aftah holdin’ dem fo’teen clost to my heart, so dey couldn’t be tuck nohow, I foun’ my ole ahms empty.”
She stretched out her gaunt old arms with a indescribable gesture of loneliness and woe, and went on in a voice full of the tears and misery of that old time: “I wuz kep’ jes’ to raise chillen for de mahket, dat wuz my business. An’ when I gin dem chillen my heart’s lub, dat wuz goin’ beyent my business.
“Slaves don’ hab no call to be humans nohow; if dey had hearts dey wuz wrung clear outen der bodies; if dey had goodness dey los’ it quick nuff.
“To try to be a good woman and true to your ole man wuz goin’ beyent yur business.
“Dey sole him too, de fader ob leben ob my chillen. He lubbed dem chillen too, jes’ as well Massy Allen lub little Missy Snow.
“He had to leab ’em—toah off, covered wid blood an’ gashes, for he fit for us, fit to stay wid me—we had libbed togedder sense I wuz fo’teen.
“I neber see him agin. He wuz killed way down in ole Kaintuck. He turned ugly aftah bein’ tuck from us, an’ den he wuz whipped, an’ he grew weak an’ homesick for us an’ his ole home. An’ den dey whip him moah to meck him wuck.