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6                                                Memories of a Long Life

me on the work bench, and when they had some long shavings they would put some on my head for me to have some curls, and then sometimes they would lift me down for me to go let my mother see me.  Well, after the house was so we could get in it, the little cabin was used to cook and eat in until we got several rooms done and furnished and the cabins fixed up for some colored people.  I was a girl old enough to go to school (note: about 1846) when my father had good oak logs cut and had a great big house built so a good colored woman could have her bed and some other furniture in it, and two colored children.  Father had two large rooms built as an ell on the west side of our dwelling and had a chimney put to the room farthest from the main part of the living and sleeping rooms.  There were two looms, two or three spinning wheels; it was called the working room.  Weaving and spinning was almost daily music to hear.  I loved the work and during the Civil War I did lots of work to make blankets for our soldier boys in camps, and many of them never returned, some that were near and dear to me, and some mother had a boy that was dear to her heart that never came back, nor could she ever see his grave, for many were buried on the battlefield; some were sent back.  I had one cousin who was noble and true, taken prisoner at Gettysburg, died in Point Lookout, New York, and one of our near neighbors, Mr. Jake Womble, also died and was buried out there.

 

            Well, I must leave my happy childhood days and come on to girlhood, when I was learning to card and spin, then on to the loom.  I was so glad when I could get the treadle so I could make the figure that was called ladies diamond with four treadles.  I was so proud as the little girl with her new red dress that I heard about when I was a child, but it is true.

 

            I wove to make men’s clothes called jeans, with three treadles, for a man from London, England, who had come to our land, and it was during the war between the North and the South.  They were wealthy and well educated.   I went to the lady’s home and was treated well, with all due respect, not as a servant of low caste.  I have found some good, true people among the wealthy and highly educated, but I never tried to push myself on them, but I tried to behave as a lady, not be forward.  I have never been in any part or any county but somebody treated me kindly, and I do try to speak kindly to all I meet.   I feel it is best.  Even today I went out on the street just for a little errand, and saw a dog, which looked sad and lonesome; I spoke to him and he jumped up and ran around and back to me in a playful way.  Such is life, even a kind word to a dog is not lost.  Now as I am writing I feel sad at heart and try to ask my dear loving Savior to let the