lection. In fact it ain't no good to our race nohow.

"The whole world gone past my judgment long ago. I jess sets round to
see what they say an do next. It is bad when you caint get work you able
to do on that's hard on the old folks. I could saved. I did save right
smart. Sickness come on. Sometimes you have a bad crop year, make
nuthin, but you have to live on. Young folks don't see no hard times if
they keep well an able to work.

"I get commodities and $6 a month. I do a little if I can.

"One time my son bought a place fo me and him. He paid all cept $70. I
don't know whut it cost now. It was 47 acres. I worked on it three
years. He sold it and went to the sawmill. He say he come out square on
it. I didn't wanter sell it but he did."

Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden
Person interviewed: Katie Arbery
815 W. Thirteenth, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Age: 80

"I am eighty years old. My name 'fore I was a Arbery was Baxter. My
mother was a Baxter. Born in Union County.

"My mother's first people was Baxter and my grandmother was a Baxter and
they just went by that name; she never did change her name.

"The boss man--that was what they called our master--his name was Paul
McCall. He was married twice. His oldest son was Jim McCall. He was in
the War. Yes ma'am, the Civil War.

"Paul McCall raised me up with his chillun and I never did call him
master, just called him pappy, and Jim McCall, I called him brother Jim.
Just raised us all up there in the yard. My grandmother was the cook.

"There wasn't no fightin' in Union County but I 'member when the Yankees
was goin' through and singin'

'The Union forever, hurrah, boys, hurrah
We'll rally 'round the flag, boys,
Shouting the battle cry of freedom.'

(She sang this--ed.)

And I 'member this one good:

'Old buckwheat cakes and good strong butter
To make your lips go flip, flip, flutter.
Look away, look away, look away, Dixie land.'

"Pappy used to play that on his fiddle and have us chillun tryin' to
dance. Used to call us chillun and say, 'You little devils, come up here
and dance' and have us marchin'.

"My cousin used to be a quill blower. Brother Jim would cut fishin'
canes and plat 'em together--they called 'em a pack--five in a row, just
like my fingers. Anybody that knowed how could sure make music on 'em.
Tom Rollins, that was my baby uncle, he was a banjo picker.

"I can remember a heap a things that happen