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Quote by Gwen Bistrow

“As she gracefully descended down portico, the white gloved hand of the lady of the estate met the white-glove worn by a Negro footman, as a vast expanse of hoop skirt filled the carriage doorway. It was a skirt of fine white lawn with ruffles embroidered with little pink and blue flowers complete with green stems. The white trash girl looked on in amazement, involuntarily wincing at the thought of the long hours plantation slave seamstresses had devoted to decorating a dress that might only be worn a half dozen times and survive as many launderings.”

Quote by Gwen Bistrow

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Gwen Bistrow

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“..the guests milled back and forth: men stood with their heads together, discussing politics and crops, their stiff white shirts puffed and ruffled, their voices rising and falling in steadfast opinions as women of fair whispered to one another and laughed behind silk fans, occasionally calling out gaily to pull another into their ring of white shoulder flounced with satin as house niggers dipped and weaved all around them bearing trays of syllabub and sack, almost invisible as the shadows they cast”

“Vic rode in the bed of the pickup. She wanted to lay down. Several empty feed bags were in the bed, and Vic laid on some and covered with others. For one minute it reminded her of a time she fell asleep in the barn when she should have been feeding the pigs. Vic smiled at that fun memory then was out cold. It was beginning to mist, but Vic didn't notice that, nor the cold wind, nor the bumpy road.”

“Glen jogged back. “What? What are you laughing about?” “Nothing,” said Amber, trying to contain herself. “Did you learn anything?” “No,” said Glen. “Turns out that old guy is German and doesn’t speak a word of English.” “Then what were you arguing about?” Glen looked puzzled. “How should I know?”