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“My father1 s name was Frank Boone. I was named for him* My mother’s
name was Phoebe Chalk* I don’t know who her mother and father were* She
said that her mother died when she was a child* She was raised by Quaker
people* I presume that her mother belonged to these Quaker people*
“On our place no grown person was ever whipped* They was just like one
family* They called grandmother1s house the big house* They farmed* They
didnft raise cotton though* They raised corn, peas, wheat, potatoes, and
all things for the table* Hogs, cows, and all such like was raised* I
never saw a pound of meat or a peck of flour or a bucket of lard or any-
thing like that bought* We rendered our.own lard, pickled our own fish,
smoked our own meat and cured it, ground our own sausage, ground our own
flour and meal from our own wheat and corn we raised on our place, spun and
wove our own cloth* The first suit of clothes I ever wore, my mother spun
the cotton and wool, wove the cloth and made the clothes* It was a mixed
steel gray suit* She dyed the thread 30 as to get the pattern* One loom
carried the black thread through and the other carried the white thread to
weave the cloth into the mixed pattern*
“I don?t know how large our place was* Maybe it was about a hundred
acres* Every one that married out of the family had a home. They called
it a free Negro colony* Nothing but Negroes in it*
“My father volunteered and went to the aimy in 1862* He served with-
the Yankees* You know Negroes didnft fight in the Confederate armies*
They was in the armies, but they were servants* My father enrolled as a
soldier* I think it was in Company F. I donft know the regiment or the
division. He was a sergeant last time I saw him. I remember that well* I
remember the stripes on his arm. He was mustered out in Gal vest on, Texas,
in 1865″

http://memory.loc.gov/mss/mesn/021/021.1.txt

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