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“Cose I was borned a slave, but I don’t ’member much ’bout hit, ’caze I
was li’l. Dere is one t’ing I does ’member, an’ dat was when dey cut
watermelons at de oberseer’s house an’ dey want us li’l niggers run
races to git our piece. I jes wouldn’t run an’ my mammy she whup me
‘caze I so stubborn an’ when I git my piece o’ melon, I fly down de lane
whar our log cabins was. Dem cabins was daubed wid clay, an’ de
chimbleys was built outten clay an’ stick. Our beds was homemade an’ had
t’ree legs wid de yuther side nail to de wall. I ’member atter I got a
big boy, my mammy had a bed made outten lumber an’ I slep’ in dat bed
‘twel I was growed an’ ma’ed.

http://archive.org/stream/slavenarrativesa36020gut/36020-0.txt

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