=_EX-SLAVE 83 YEARS OLD._=

Ned Walker lives in the village of White Oak, near Winnsboro, S.C., in a
two-room frame house, the dwelling of his son-in-law, Leander Heath, who
married his daughter, Nora. Ned is too old to do any work of a
remunerative character but looks after the garden and chickens of his
daughter and son-in-law. He is a frequent visitor to Winnsboro, S.C. He
brings chickens and garden produce, to sell in the town and the
Winnsboro Hill's village. He is tall, thin, and straight, with kind
eyes. Being one of the old Gaillard Negroes, transplanted from the
Santee section of Berkeley County, in the Low Country, to the red hills
of Fairfield County, in the Up Country, he still retains words and
phrases characteristic of the Negro in the lower part of South Carolina.

"Yes sir, I's tall and slim lak a saplin'; maybe dat a good reason I
live so long. Doctor say lean people lives longer than fat people.

"I hear daddy read one time from de Bible 'bout a man havin' strength of
years in his right hand and honor and riches in his left hand, but
whenever I open dat left hand dere is nothin' in it. 'Spect dat promise
is comin' tho', when de old age pension money gits down here from
Washington. When you 'spect it is comin'? De palm of my hand sho' begin
to itch for dat greenback money. So you think it's on de way? Well,
thank God for dat but it seem 'most too good to be true. Now I'll quit
askin' questions and just set here and smoke and answer, whilst you do
de puttin' down on de paper.

"Yes sir, I was born right here in de southeast corner of Winnsboro, on
de Clifton place. De day I was born, it b'long to my master, David
Gaillard. Miss Louisa, dats Master David's wife, 'low to me one day,
'Ned don't you ever call de master, old master, and don't you ever
think of me as old miss'. I promise her dat I keep dat always in mind,
and I ain't gonna change, though she done gone on to heaven and is in de
choir a singin' and a singin' them chants dat her could pipe so pretty
at St. Johns, in Winnsboro. You see they was 'Piscopalians. Dere was no
hard shell Baptist and no soft shell Methodist in deir make up. It was
all glory, big glory, glory in de very highest rung of Jacob's ladder,
wid our white folks.

"Well, how I is ramblin'. You see dere was Master David and Mistress
Louisa, de king bee and de queen bee. They had a plantation down on de
Santee, in de Low Country, somewhere 'bout Moncks Corner. One day Master