She was under fire now, as usual when the day was done.
That is to say, she was being chaffed without mercy, and was enjoying it.
She would let off peal after peal of laughter, and then sit with her face in her hands and shake with throes of enjoyment which she could no longer get breath enough to express.

At such a moment as this a thought occurred to me, and I said: "Aunt Rachel, how is it that you've lived sixty years and never had any trouble ?" She stopped quaking.

She paused, and there was moment of silence.

She turned her face over her shoulder toward me, and said, without even a smile in her voice: "Misto C-----, is you in 'arnest ?" It surprised me a good deal; and it sobered my manner and my speech, too.
I said: "Why, I thought--that is, I meant--why, you can't have had any trouble.
I've never heard you sigh, and never seen your eye when there wasn't a laugh in it." She faced fairly around now, and was full earnestness.
"Has I had any trouble?
Misto C-----, I's gwyne to tell you, den I leave it to you.

I was bawn down 'mongst de slaves; I knows all 'bout slavery, 'case I ben one of 'em my own se'f.