He stared for a moment and then said, “Of course.” He opened his green-covered notebook and closed it again. “All these years—” He hesitated. “All these years,” he repeated, and then rushed through the rest of his sentence—“you have been drinking the nauseous dregs of the bitter cup of slavery.” He raised his thick eyebrows encouragingly, but it occurred to him that what he had just said sounded a trifle ridiculous.

“Pardon me. What are ‘dregs’?”

This question startled him. “Ah, well, the sediment— the lees; ah, the basest portion of a liquid.”

“In the bottom of a bowl.”

“Yes.”

She considered and her eyes seemed to flash. “Some should no doubt have their lives described this way, but I hardly recognize myself in what you say.” Without pausing she said, “My first memories are of my father, a door, a wall, the hills—” But then she seemed to falter.

“Yes?”

“My strongest first memory is of my father, a door, a wall, the hills, a sledge, and the snow.”

“I beg your pardon?” He was struggling, trying not to stare, still getting used to her appearance, trying to take her in.

THAT night, after the first day’s interview, in the privacy of the room to which Mrs. Whaley had shown him by the light of a candle, James wrote some notes:

Appearance

complexion is very white
wrinkles
crimson of youth is distinctly visible
sight is fairly dim, according to the subject— now that she would have an opportunity to learn to read again, she cannot do so
cheekbones are high and rather prominent
hair quite gray, a little curled, of middling length
walks with a quick step without a staff
I was informed by Mr. Clute that she could yet cross a stream on a log or pole as steadily as any other person

stands tolerably erect, with her head bent forward, apparently from her having for a long time been accustomed to carrying heavy bur- dens in a strap placed across her forehead

Dress

shirt, short gown, petticoat, stockings

gown of undressed flannel, colored brown . . . made in old yankee style, with long sleeves, covered the top of the hips and was tied before in two places with strings of deerskin

stockings of blue broadcloth

such . . . the dress that this woman was contented to wear, and habit had rendered it convenient and comfortable . . . wore it not as a matter of necessity, but from choice, for it will be seen . . . that her property is sufficient to enable her to dress in the best fashion, and to allow her every comfort of life

English

speaks English plainly and distinctly, with a little of the Irish emphasis recollection and memory exceeded my expectations

it cannot be reasonably supposed that a person of her age has kept the events of seventy years in so complete a chain as to be able to assign to each its proper time and place; she, however, made her recital with as few obvious mistakes as might be found in that of a person of fifty