oot-log, dere on de other end o' dat log was a man wid his haid cut off
an layin plum over on his shoulder. He look at me, kinda pitiful, an
don't say a word--but I closely never waited to see what he gonna talk
about. I pure flew back home. I was so scairt I couldn't tell de folks
what done happened till I set down an get my breath.

"Nother time, not so long ago, when I live down in Gary, I be walkin
down de railroad track soon in de mornin an fore I knowed it, dere was a
white man walkin long side o' me. I jes thought it were somebody, but I
wadn't sho, so I turn off at de fust street to git way from dere. De nex
mawnin I be boin[TR: goin?] to work at de same time. It were kinda foggy
an dark, so I never seen nobody till I mighty nigh run into dis same
man, an dere he goes, bout half a step ahead o' me, his two hands restin
on his be-hind.

"I was so close up to him I could see him plain as I see you. He had
fingernails dat long, all cleaned an polished. He was tull, an had on a
derby hat, an stylish black clothes. When I walk slow he slow down, an
when I stop, he stop, never oncet lookin roun. My feets make a noise on
de cinders tween de rails, but he doan make a mite o' noise. Dat was de
fust thing got me scairt, but I figger I better find out for sho ifen he
be a sperrit; so I say, gook an loud: 'Lookee here, Mister, I jez an old
colored woman, an I knows my place, an I wisht you wouldn't walk wid me
counta what folks might say.'

"He never looked roun no moren if I wan't there, an I cut my eyes roun
to see if there is somebody I can holler to for help. When I looked back
he was gone; gone, like dat, without makin a sound. Den I knowed he be a
hant, an de nex day when I tell somebody bout it dey say he be de genman
what got killed at de crossin a spell back, an other folks has seen him
jus like I did. Dey say dey can hear babies cryin at de trestle right
near dere, an ain't nobody yit ever found em.

"Dat ain de ony hant I ever seen. One day I go out to de smokehouse to
git a mess o' taters. It was after sundown, but still purty light. When
I gits dere de door be unlocked an a big man standin half inside. 'What
you doin stealin our taters!' I hollers at him, an pow! He gone, jes
like dat. Did I git back to dat house! We mighty glad to eat grits an
cornbread dat night.

"When we livin at Titusville, I see my old mammy comin up de road jus as
plain as day. I stan on de porch, fixin to run an meet her, when all o