"When word come dat dey was comin', it soun' lak a moanin' win' in de quarter. Ever'body was a-sayin', 'De Yankees is comin'! De Yankees is comin'!' Us chullun was scared, but it was lak Sund'y, too,—nobody doin' nothin'. Us march' 'roun' de room an' sorter sing-lak, 'De Yankees is comin'! De Yankees is comin'!' Dey wouldn' let us out in de big road. Well, dey come. Dey burn up seventy houses an' all de stores. Dey tore up de railroad tracks an' toted off ever'thing dey couldn' eat. I don' un'erstan' nothin' 'bout how come dey act lak dat. Us aint done nothin' to 'em.
"Well things kep' gittin' worse an' worse. After de Surrender Niggers got mighty biggity. Mos' of 'em was glad jus' to feel free. Dey didn' have no better sense. Dey forgot wouldn' be nobody to take care of 'em. Things warnt healthy an' my mammy an' me kep' close to de white folks. 'Course, Tempe she was grown an' could do what she please. She sho' done somp'in' when she married Cal. Dat was de meanes' Nigger! He nail up a board over de gate pos' what say, 'No visitors allowed'. Sho' 'nough didn' no visitors want to go to his house!
"I don' know how come things got so unnatchel after de Surrender. Niggers got to bein all kin' o' things what de Lawd didn' inten' 'em for, lak bein' policemen an' all lak dat. It was scan'lous! 'Course, it was de Yankees what done it. Dey promise to give ever'body forty acres o' lan' an' a mule. A lot of 'em didn' have no better sense dan to believe 'em. Dey'd go 'head an' do what de Yankees 'ud tell 'em. Well, dey didn' give' em nothin', not even a rooster. Didn' give 'em nothin' but trouble.
"I don' know how come Mr. Theodore Sturges' brother was a Yankee. But after de Surrender he come to Mer-ree-dian an' got to be Mayor. Didn' none o' de white folks lak dat. Mr. Theodore didn' lak it hisse'f, but nothin' he could do 'bout it. Things got so bad de Kloo-Kluxes[FN: Klu Klux] started ridin' at night an' sposin'[FN: disposing] o' bad Niggers. Den one Satu'd'y night Mr. Theodore's big sto' got set fiah to an' de Mayor he tried to blame it on de Kloo-Kluxes. 'Course ever'body knowed de Yankees done it. You see de Yankees was a-tryin' to git de Gov'nor to run de Kloo-Kluxes out. Dat was one awful fiah. Near 'bout de whole town burnt up down town an' ever' nice white man was down dare a-fightin' de fiah.
"Plenty o' Niggers was out, too, doin' devlishment. Three of 'em got 'rested an' dey had de trial Monday. In de meantime, all de Yankee-lovin' Niggers had a big meetin' an' de loudes' mouf dere was dat big buck Nigger Bill. He all time call hisse'f Dennis when he don' call hisse'f Clopton. Here dey goes, all het up frum makin' speeches an' a-drinkin', an' packs de courtroom full. When Mr. Patton got up on de stan' an' say, he sho' done hear Bill Dennis say somp'in', Bill he holler out, 'Dat's a lie!' Only he say a bad word dat I wouldn' say. Den Mr. Patton raise up his walkin' stick an' start toward Bill. 'Bout den Bill jerk out his pistol an' shoot at Mr. Patton. He miss Mr. Patton an' hit Judge Bramlette. Yes'm, kilt him corpse-dead right dere on his high pulpit chair!
"'Bout dat time ever'thing bus' loose. Near 'bout all de white gent'mun in de court room take a shot at Bill. He falls, but he aint dead yet. Dey put him in de sheriff's office an' lef two white men wid him. But things was a-happenin' so fas' by dat time dey couldn' stan' it. Dey th'owed Bill out of dat two-story window an' run down to git in de fight. De white folks was plumb wo' out by dat time wid all de devilishment o' de Yankees an' de fool Niggers. Even a mean Nigger got sense 'nough to know when he done gone too far. Dey all git away as fas' as dey could an' scatter over town, den after dark dey come a-creepin' back to de quarters. Dat was sho' de wronges' thing to do. Dat night, all de sho' 'nough white men came a-marchin' out Seventh Street on dey way to de quarters.
"I had did up Miss Lizzie's parlor curtains dat very day an' de boy was puttin' up de mouldin' frame 'roun' 'em when us hear dat trompin' soun'. It didn' soun' lak no ever'day marchin'. It soun' lak Judgement Day. De boy fell off de ladder an' run an' hid b'hind de flour barrel in de pantry. Miss Lizzie was peepin' out 'twixt dem white lace curtains an' I was right b'hin' 'er. I 'spec' Seventh Street was lined wid wimmin-folks doin' jus' what us doin', 'cause dey husban's, sons, an' sweethearts was out dere in dat march-line.
"Well, dat night ended all de troubles. De line done stop at Mr. Theodore Sturges' house' fore it git out far as us. 'Course, ever'body know Mr. Theodore an' Miss Allie was sho' 'nough folks, but dey was bound to have dat Yankee brother o' his'n.
"De yard was plumb full o' white men ready to burn de house right down on Miss Allie's head lessen dey'd give up dat Yankee Mayor. Mr. Theodore come to de door an' say, 'Gent'mun, he aint here.' Aint nobody believe dat. Dey was a-fixin' to bus' on in anyhow, when Miss Allie come out. She come right down dem steps 'mongst all dem mad folks an' say, calm an' lady-lak, 'Gent'mun, my brother-in-law is here, cert'ny. Where would he go for safety 'cepn to his brother's house? But I give you my word dat he gwine stay right here 'till you put him on de firs' train headin' nawth. Den no mo' blood will be spilled.' An' dat's what dey done.
"Yes'm it was all mighty bad, but plenty good things done happen in Mer-ree-dian, too. I'se seen dis town grow frum nothin'. When us come here 'fore de War, dey was hitchin' dey horses to little oak bushes right in de middle o' town where de bigges' stores is now. I was a grown girl by den an' could make horsemint tea for chills an' mullen leaves for fever good as anybody; an' horehound tea for colds, bitter as gall. I jus' now caught up how to cook an' sew.