“Slavery.”

“He don’t know nothin’ about slavery.”

“Thank you.  However, if he says he does, I’ll just continue to listen to him if you don’t mind.”

“Humph,” and the “yellow gentleman” passed in.

Out again—­eyeing both the old man and me with disgust that was unconcealed.  To him, “You don’t know whutchu’re doin’.”

Deep silence by all.  Exit the yellow brother.

To the old man, I said, “Is that your son?”

“Lawd, no, that’s jus’ a roomer.”

Out came the yellow brother again.  “See here, Uncle, if you want me to fix that fence you’d bettuh come awn out heah now.  It’s gettin’ dark.”

I closed my notebook and arose.  “Don’t let me interfere with your program, Brother Nelson.”

The old man settled back in his chair.  His eyes inspected the sky, his jaw “sorta” set.  The yellow brother looked at him a minute and passed on.

Five minutes later.  Enter, the Madam.  She also was of the yellow variety with the suspicious and spiteful look of an undersized black Belgian police dog.  A moment of silence—­a word to him.

“You don’t know whutchu’re doin’.”  Silence all around.  To me, “You’re upsettin’ my work.”

I arose.  “Madam, I’m sorry.”

The old man spoke, “You ain’t keepin’ me from nothin’.”

“Well, I said, you’ve given me a nice start; I’ll come again and get the rest.”

Interviewer:  Miss Irene Robertson
Person interviewed:  Henry Nelson, Edmondson, Arkansas
Age:  70
[TR:  Appears to be same as last informant despite different address.]

“My mother belong to the Taylors close to Carterville, Tennessee.  My father never was sold.  He belong to the Nelsons.  My parents married toreckly after the surrender and come on to this state.  I was born ten miles from Edmondson.  Their names was Adeline and Green Nelson.  They didn’t get nothing after freedom like land or a horse.  I’m seventy years old and I would have known.

“I was at Alton, Illinois in the lead works thirteen years ago and I had a stroke.  I been cripple ever since.

“My folks never spoke of being nothing but field hands.  Folks used to be proud of their crops, go look over them on Sunday when company come.  Now if they got a garden they hide it and don’t mention it.  Times is changed that way.

“Clothes ain’t as lasty as they used to be.  People has a heap more money to spend and don’t raise and have much at home as they did when I was a child.  Times is all turned around and folks too.  I always had plenty till I couldn’t do hard work.  I farmed my early life.  We didn’t have much money but we had rations and warm clothes.  I cleared new ground, hauled wood, big logs.  I steamboated on the Sun, Kate Adams, and One Arm John.  I helped with the freight.  I railroaded with pick and shovel and in the lead mines.  I worked from Memphis to Helena on boats a good while.  I come back here to farm.  Time is changed and I’m changed.