There's a lot of counties in Georgia where the blacks are equal in number to the whites, and two or three counties where the blacks number over the whites by two to one.

It was fur a little town in one of the latter that we pinted ourselves, Doctor Kirby and me and Sam--right into the blackest part of the black belt.
That country is full of big-sized plantations, where they raise cotton, cotton, cotton, and then MORE cotton.

Some of 'em raises fruit, too, and other things, of course; but cotton is the main stand-by, and it looks like it always will be.
Some places there shows that things can't be so awful much changed since slavery days, and most of the niggers are sure enough country niggers yet.

Some rents their land right out from the owners, and some of 'em crops it on the shares, and very many of 'em jest works as hands.

A lot of 'em don't do nigh so well now as they did when their bosses was their masters, they tell me; and then agin, some has done right well on their own hook.