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 (Last crow of the Roosters)

Wife (to her confiding Negress who has a [?] of little ones) Faithy, Faithy I say! Faith - Yes Marm, Get breakfast ready quick Mr __ is going this morng to pick cotton - Tom - ( Sighs) & get up. very weak all Rheumatic pains, weakness & cramp) Breakfast is laid out - Coffee made of Beans, Nigger bread, a few slices of [?] bacon & hard dried

  beef, then leaves with negros for the cotton field.

Wife - lolls in a chair, having it angularly up against the side of the house - producing from the bosom a purse of [?] thin buck-skin containing snuff, and a piece of cane rendered soft at one end by repeated