Did he believe, back in slavery time in "signs" and in "sayings"—that the itching foot meant the journey to new lands—that the hound's midnight threnody meant murder?
No, when he was a young buck and had managed the bad horses, he had had no such beliefs. No, he was not superstitious. If the foot itched something ought to be put on it (or taken off it)—and as to the hounds yelping, nobody ever knew what dark-time foolishness a hound-dog might be up to.
But he was old, now. Death always comes in the afternoon. He does believe in things that have been proved. He does believe that a squinch-owl's screeching ("V-o-o-o-d-o-o! W-h-o-o-o? Y-ou-u!") is a sure sign of death. Lowing of a cow in afternoon Georgia meadows means death mighty close. If death come down to a house, better stop clock and put white cloth on mirrors. No loud talking permitted. Better for any nigger to bow low down to death....
To what factors did he attribute his long life, queried the gov'mint man.
Long living came from leaving off smoking and drinking.
Would he have a nickle cigar?
He would.
Yes, he was feeling quite tol'able, thank you. But he believed now in the owl and the cow and the clock.
In the morning-time one lives, but death always come in the afternoon. Better for any nigger, anywhere, to bow low down to death.