I own that part of the
plantation on the far side of the run. He has kept all the accounts
of that part separate, and if it hadn't been for the war I'd have
been rich, and he says I will be rich when the war is over and the
South free. He said he had allowed so much for my bringing up and
for my education, and that the rest was invested, with his own
money, in Confederate bonds. That is all right, and I respect uncle
for his downright integrity, but he wants to manage me just as he
does my plantation. He wishes to produce just such crops of thoughts
as he sows the seeds of, and he would treat my other thoughts like
weeds, which must be hoed out, cut down and burned. Then you see he
hasn't GIVEN me a home, and I'm growing to be a woman. If I am old
enough to own land, am I never to be old enough to own myself?"
"Dar now, Miss Lou, you raisin' mo' questions dan I kin tink out in
a yeah."
"There's dozens more rising in my mind and I can't get rid of them.
Aunt keeps my hands knitting and working for the soldiers, and I
like to do it.
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