I often ketched her crying, an' she'd say she had de headache, but I thought it war de heartache.

'Fore ole Marster died, she got so thin an' peaked I war 'fraid she war gwine to die; but she seed him out.

He war killed by a tree fallin' on him, an' ef eber de debil got his own he got him.

I seed him in a vision arter he war gone.

He war hangin' up in a pit, sayin' 'Oh! oh!' wid no close on.