om. I remember eve'ybody had work to do
in slavery an' dey gone right on doin' it sence. An' nobody don't git
nowheres settin' down holdin' their han's. It do'n make so much diffunce
anyhow what you does jes so's you does it.

One time when I was carryin' in my fish to "Airlie" [TR: difficult to
read] Mr. Pem Jones heard me laff, an' after I opened dis here mouf of
mine an' laffed fer him I didn't have to bother 'bout fish no mo'.
Lordy, dose rich folks he used to bring down fum New Yo'k is paid me as
much as _sixty_ dollars a week to laff fer 'em. One of 'em was named Mr.
_Fish_. Now you know dat tickled _me_. I could jes laff an' laff 'bout
dat. Mr. Pem give me fine clo'es an' a tall silk hat. I'd eat a big
dinner in de kitchen an' den go in' mongst de quality an' laff fer' em
an' make my noise like a wood saw in my th'oat. Dey was crazy 'bout dat.
An' then's when I began to be thankful 'bout my manners. I's noticed if
you has nice manners wid eve'ybody people gwine to be nice to you.

Well, (with a long sigh) I don't pick up no sich money nowadays; but
my manners gives me many a chance to laff, an' I never don't go hungry.

John has been a well known character for fifty years among the summer
residents along the sounds and on Wrightsville Beach. He was a fisherman
and huckster in his palmy days, but now John's vigor is on the wane, and
he has little left with which to gain a livelihood except his unusually
contagious laugh, and a truly remarkable flow of words. "Old John" could
give Walter Winchel a handicap of twenty words a minute and then beat
him at his own game. His mouth is enormous and his voice deep and
resonant. He can make a noise like a wood saw which he maintains for 2
or 3 minutes without apparent effort, the sound buzzing on and on from
some mysterious depths of his being with amazing perfection of
imitation.

Any day during the baseball season John may be seen sandwiched between
his announcement boards, a large bell in one hand, crying the ball game
of the day. "Old John" to the youngsters; but finding many a quarter
dropped in his hand by the older men with memories of gay hours and
hearty laughter.

District: No. 3 [320198]
Worker: Daisy Whaley
Subject: EX-SLAVE
Storyteller: Lindsay Faucette
Ex-Slave
Church Street,
Durham, N. C.

[TR: Date Stamp "JUL 2 1937"]

LINDSEY FAUCETTE, 86 Yrs.
Ex-slave.

Yes, Mis',