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(Lee County, Alabama. Ruby Pickens Tartt, W. F. Jordan, Editor, July 13, 1937)
"Yassum, I's Bettie Tolbert, if dat who you lookin' for."
It was early summer in western Alabama, and the visitor had stopped at the neat log cabin of Bettie Tolbert, ex-slave, who lived near a farm road some six miles east of Livingston. Wielding a fan made from the wing of a turkey, her grizzly head surmounted by a turban deftly made of a very red bandanna, her wrinkled old face fairly shone with the kindly goodness characteristic of those of her race who had lived and loved and toiled during the period when their Southland was yet young. A majestic spreading water oak supplied the shaded protection near the tiny porch where she sat in her splitbottom rocker, and from the topmost twig of a magnolia tree nearby, a mocking bird did flip-flops as he trilled his cheeriest notes.
"Were you born in this neighborhood?" she was asked.
"Yassum, I was born an' raised just across de field dar on Marse Abner Scarborough's plantation. Marse Abner and Miss Ruth were blessed ole people, an' when Marse Abner died right atter he done finish a sermon to all us niggers, 'cause he preach fust to de white folks, den on Sunday to de niggers, a drove of us niggers follered him to de big house a cryin' an' takin' on mightily, 'cause he was a blessed man an' good to all his niggers.
"No'm, de place wa'n't so big I reckon, but I thought it was den. Look big now, 'cause I ain't never lef' 'roun' here. I jes' stayed on wid de nex' of 'em what come along, 'cause I knowed good white folks when I see 'em, an' dey sho' was, an' all de chillun was good. De ole place was 'bout five miles east of Livingston, on de Livingston an'
Demopolis Highway. My mammy an' pappy b'longed to Marse Abner. Mammy's name was Mary Jane Scarborough, an' my pappy was Mack Tolbert, 'cause you see he b'longed to Mr. Billy Tolbert who brung him from Virginny, an' dey bofe stayed on wid Marse Abner, didn't never go no mo'. I had three sisters an' one brudder, but dey all dead.
"I 'members us chillun hangin' on to Marse Abner's legs when he went to de gate to meet his oldes' son, time he come back from de war. Dat boy mos' shouted, an' hugged and kissed his pa, den called Uncle Elum, git his hoss. Den us chillun run out to play.
"No'm, us didn't go to school none no time, nor learn nothin' 'cept Ole Miss an' mammy showed us how to spin an' den weave de cloth. Dey was good to all, an' us had plenty, mo' dan us got now. But dat was 'cause Marse Abner was a blessed man.
"Now dar Mr. John May; he call hisself a preacher too, an' married Mr. Billy Tolbert's daughter. Den Mr. Billy give him some niggers, an' he treat 'em so mean dat Mr. Billy say he great mind to take a gun an' shoot him. One day here some one of de slaves, buck naked wid de dogs a runnin' atter him fas' as dey could, an' de blood jes' a streamin'. Den Marse Abner he say, 'Billy, if you can't stop dat, I kin.' I don't know what he done to Mr. May, but he didn't set de dogs on dem niggers no mo' atter dat.
"I reckon altogether dar was 'bout fifty slaves on Marse Abner's plantation, an' a lot of young niggers comin' on, an' everything was peaceful. No'm, us never had no corn shuckin's, 'cause Marse Abner was a preacher an' didn't 'low nothin' sinful gwine on. Didn't hear no Br'er Rabbit tales, an' didn't know nothin' 'bout hoodoo, 'cause I was wid de white folks all de time. An' us didn't know much what went on nohow, 'cause dey alway send de chillun out to play soon as somep'n happen what wa'n't reg'lar.
"One time I heard some of 'em say dem dogs run a nigger in de river an' every time he raise his nostrils out of de water for breath, de overseer shoot at his head. But I don't know if dats true or no. Didn't nobody never ketch him dat I knows of, an' don't nobody know what come of him.
"I don't know what I kin call my fav'rit' song, less'n its 'Dat Ole Time 'Ligion', 'cause dats de one Ole Marse Abner sung jes' befo' he pass away dat day. Seems like I kin hear him now. Me sing! No'm I can't h'ist no hymn; I ain't no songster. All I does is jes' foller de leader.
"Good-by Miss. I sho' is glad you stopped by to speak wid dis ole nigger. "Spect nex' time you come along I'll done been called to glory lan' whar Marse Abner an' Miss Ruth is. Dat sho' will be a happy time, bless de Lawd. I's mighty sorry Miss. Wish I had some purty flowers to give you. Jes' he' yo'self to de magnolia blossoms an' dar is some holly hocks in de back yahd, an' dare plenty of crepe myrtle; jes' he'p yo'self. Good-by an' God bless you."
