he did.

"Somepin' 'nother jus' made me jine de church. I wanted to do better'n
what I was doin'. De Lord says it's best for folkses to be 'ligious.

"No Ma'am, I don't 'spect to live as long as my Ma lived, 'cause dese
legs of mine since I done los' both of my footses wid blood pizen atter
gangreen sot in, sho' gives me a passel of trouble. But de Lord is good
to me and no tellin' how long I'se gwine to stay here. Miss, you sho'
tuk me way back yonder, and I laks to talk 'bout it. Yes, Ma'am, dat's
been a long time back."

ROBERT SHEPHERD, Age 91
386 Arch Street
Athens, Georgia

Written by:
Grace McCune [HW: (White)]
Athens

Edited by:
Sarah H. Hall
Athens

Leila Harris
Augusta

and
John N. Booth
District Supervisor
Federal Writers' Project
Residencies 6 & 7

Robert lives in a small house so old and in such bad repair that a
strong wind would no doubt tumble it down. Large holes in the roof
can be plainly seen from the gateway. The neat yard, filled with
old-fashioned flowers, is enclosed by a makeshift fence of rusty wire
sagging to the ground in places, and the gate rocks on one hinge. There
was some evidence that a porch had extended across the front of the
cottage, but it is entirely gone now and large rocks serve as steps at
the doorway.

Knocks and calls at the front of the house were unanswered and finally
Robert was found working in his garden behind the house. He is a tiny
old man, and his large sun hat made him seem smaller than he actually
was. He wore a clean but faded blue shirt and shabby gray pants much too
large for him. His shoes, bound to his feet with strips of cloth, were
so much too large that it was all he could do to shuffle along. He
removed his hat and revealed white hair that contrasted with his black
face, as he smiled in a friendly way. "Good morning, Missy! How is you?"
was his greeting. Despite his advanced age, he keeps his garden in
excellent condition. Not a blade of grass was to be seen. Asked how he
managed to keep it worked so efficiently he proudly answered: "Well
Miss, I jus' wuks in it some evvy day dat comes 'cept Sundays and, when
you keeps right up wid it dat way, it ain't so hard. Jus' look 'round
you! Don't you see I got de bestest beans and squashes, 'round here, and
down under dem 'tater vines, I kin tell you, dem roots is jus' full of
'taters. My Old Marster done larnt me how to gyarden. He allus made us
raise lots of gyarden sass such as: bean