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 Lauriston's lands. He's a mighty big planter.—One of the biggest in Hebron County."

"Oh, you know him, then?"

"Yas Suh. I know him, by sight. Comes to town regular. I got some friends working for him too. He owns mighty nigh all the land hereabouts. What he don't own, the Marleys do. Them two families run things too. The Witts are another big family. But they live a little to the no'th.—Work a lot of colored hands. Work 'em hard too."

"This seems to be pretty good country. There's so much land. It ought to be good for your people too. Do they own any land?"

"Own land. Lord, they don't own their souls. Can't own anything. They get such low pay, and have such a hard time paying up their debts from one year to the other that that's all they can do. Work, eat, live and die. Eat, work, live and die. That's all they do. When we git tired o' that we try the city but that's hard too.

"Why can't you plant enough land to make a surplus from year to year and thus get something ahead?"

"You can do that some places but you can't in this county nor in Truro County.—That's the next county west to this. That's a bad, bad county. Why I know a colored family that lived on a white man's place and couldn't make a living—was in debt all the time. Finally he got another place in another county and was moving away. The white man heard of it, rode after him, met the man with his goods on a wagon. Got in front of him,