"Axel grease put on hot, wid red flannel goin'to tak it away chile."
Ah were an ol' woman mahse'f den—bout fifty, but mammy she climb outa bed an go out in de yard where deys an ol' wagon, an she scrapes dat axel off, an heat it up an put it on wid red flannel. Den ah got easy! Ah sho was thankful when dat grease an flannel got to wukin on me!
"You try it sometime when you gets one o' dem col' miseries in de winter time. But go 'long! Folks is too sma't nowadays to use dem good ol' medicines. Dey jes' calls de Doctor an he come an cut 'em wide open fo de 'pendycitus—he sho do! Yas'em ah has de doctor, ef ah needs him. Ah has de rheumatism, no pain—ah jes gets stiffer, an' stiffer right along."
Mah sight sho am poor now. Ah cain't wuk no mo. Ah done ironin aftah ah quit cookin—washin an ironin, ah likes a nice wash an iron the bes fo wuk. But lasyear mah eyes done give out on me, an dey tell me not to worry dey gointo give me a pension. De man goes to a heap o' wuk to get dem papers fix jes right."
"Yes 'em, I'se de on'y one o' mammy's chillen livin. Mah, gran'ma on pappy's side, she live to be one hundred and ten yeah's ol—powerful ol eve'ybody say. She were part Indian, gran' ma were, an dat made her to be ol."
"Yes'em, mos' I evah earn were five dollars a week. Ah gets twenty dollars now, an pays eight dollars fo rent. We is got no mo'—ah figgers—a wukin fo ourself den what we'd have wuz we slaves, fo dey gives you a log house, an clothes, an yo eats all yo want to, an when you buys things, maybe you doesn't make enough to git you what you needs, wukin sun-up to sun down. No' em 'course ah isn't wukin now when you gits be de hour—wukin people does now; but ah don't know nothin 'but that way o'doin."
"We weahs cotton cloths when ah were young, jes plain weave it were; no collar nor cuffs, n' belt like store clothes. Den men's jes have a kinda clothes like ... well, like a chemise, den some pantaloons wid a string run through at de knees. Bare feet—yes'em, no shoes. Nevah need no coat down to Natchez, no'em."
"When we comes back to Louieville on de boat, we sleeps in de straw on de flo' o' de boat. It gits colder 'n colder! Come big chunks ol ice down de river. De sky am dark, an hit col' an spit snow. Ah wish ah were back dere in Natchez dat time after de war were ovah! Yes'em, ah members dat much."
"Ah wuk along wid mammy til ah were married, den ah gits on by mahsef. Manny she come heah to Lebanon wid de Suttons—she married Sam. Sutton's pappy. Yes 'em dey wuz about 12 o'de fambly cum heah, an ah come to see mammy,... den ah gits me wuk, an ah stays.
"Cookin'? Yes'em, way meat is so high now, ah likes groundhog. Ground hog is good eatin. A peddler was by wid groun' hog fo ten cents apiece. Ground hog is good as fried chicken any day. You cleans de hog, an boils it in salt water til its tender. Den you makes flour gravy, puts it on after de water am drain off; you puts it in de oven wif de lid on an bakes hit a nice brown. No 'em, don' like fish so well, nor coon, nor possum, dey is too greasy. Likes chicken, groundhog an pork." Wid de wild meat you wants plain boiled potatoes, yes'em Irish potatoes, sho enough, ah heard o' eatin skunk, and muskrat, but ah ain't cookin em. But ah tells you dat groun' hog is good eatin.