Guy Stewart, 87, 209 Austin Ave., Ft. Worth, was born Nov. 26, 1850, a slave of Jack Taylor, who also owned Guy's parents, 3 brothers and 3 sisters. They lived in Mansfield Parish, La. Stewart started work in the fields at seven years, and remained with his owner three years after he was freed. He then moved onto his own farm where he lived until 1898, when he moved to Fort Worth.

Yas, suh, I'se an ol' slave and I'se 'bout 11 years ol' when de War starts. My marster am Jack Taylor and my family belongs to him.

I 'members de war well, 'cause we'uns hears shootin' and see soldiers. Dey comes to marster's place and takes hosses and vittals. One time dey wants some of de niggers for to help fix for de battle. Dere am heap of 'citement and de marster's 'fraid de battle come too close. He say, 'It's too close for saftment.' And he say, 'Put dis and dat away so de soldier cain't find it.'

I starts work long 'fore dat, when I'se seven, in de cotton and co'n field. I just peddles 'round first. Marster sho' am good to us and so good dat de other white folks calls us de 'free niggers.'

We'uns have cabins for to live in and sleep in bunks with straw ticks on 'em. We'uns has lots to eat, all we wants. And we'uns have all de clothes we needs.

Sho, we went to church with de marster. Dey tol' us 'bout Heaven and de devil and sich. But dey never 'lows us to have books in de hands. Dey says it wasn' good for us to larn readin' or writin.' "We'uns has lots of music on dat place 'cause de marster, he am de good fiddler and he learns some of us niggers to play de fiddle and de banjo. We gits together and has de music, sing and dance. If I thinks 'bout dem days now, I can see we'uns dancin' and hear de singin' of dem ol' songs, sich like Ol' Black Joe and Swanee River. Iffen I thinks too much 'bout dem days, tears comes in dis ol' nigger's eyes. Dem were de happy days of my life. In dem days, we'uns not know what am money, never have any. What for we'uns need it? I'se more happy den, dan I been since, with money.

De marster am scart for to lose all de hosses and everything, 'cause dey takes it for de army man, so he gits to thinkin' 'bout movin' to Texas. De war warn't over when he goes to Texas and takes all us niggers with him. De roads dem days am not so good. No bridges over de rivers, 'cept de bigges' ones. Lots of times we'uns has to push for help de hosses pull de wagons outta de mudhole, and we'uns is over a month gettin' to Williams County. De marster rents de land dere and we stays for one crop, and den we all goes to Travis County, whar marster settle for to raise de wheat.

When freedom comes, de marster says we'uns has to work for wages and buy all de food and de clothes and everything dat we'uns gits. Dat's not so easy. At first he pays me $5.00 a month and den pays me $10.00 de month. After three years I quits and rents a farm and works for myself, I gits married in 1877 and my wife dies in 1915. We'uns has one chile. In 1898 I comes to Fort Worth and gits me a job in de woodyard and sich.

White man, I sho' likes for to see dat ol' plantation down in Louisiana and it would do dis ol' darky good. I sits here and thinks of de marster and de good times. And de fishin down dere! Is dere good fishin'? De folks here don' know what am fishin'.

You has dis nigger thinkin' heaps 'bout de ol' plantation and de good times. If I don' stop talkin' 'bout dat, I gits to cryin'.