A].ab~na	‘1 (~‘)‘7fl	I f	G. L. Clark
	~~J~i~:J	~ ‚ ~ . . .:	A, B. Tohnson
	~

“SHORTY“ WAD~Y CL~MONS	~

	He was bent over the lawn, oare~ul1y trimming the border Into a neat line. A small black figure In overalls, clean but worn blue chambray shirt, the misshapen remains of shoes and a nondescript hat, from under which protruded thin ~h1te sideburns.

	“Good morning, Uncle,“ I said, “Mr. Lee was telling me about you. He said you lived back in slavery times. Is that right?“

	“Yes suh, I sho‘ dId. I‘ll be 92 years old de second of August, and I was a slave for 20 year. I had a good oie massa and mistis, de bee‘ dere was. 01e massa was a great big man, an‘ he wa‘n‘t scared of nothin‘ dey was. He wouldn‘t go nowhere without me. He always took me wid him. My grandma was a cook and my ma was a house girl.

	“We lived in Pine Hill, a summer resort in Jefferson County, Georgia, across the river from Louisville. From home we could look over and see de people walkin‘ about in Louisville.

	“I remembers de day de Yankees come to Louisville. We could see them goin‘ about from one house to anudder, settin‘ fire. Den dey o orne on to de river and sot fire to de bridge. Dey wouldn‘t use our bridge. Dey built dese here pontoon bridges and dey could build dem before you could look away and look back. Den dey come across de river to pine Hill.

“Oie massa had his hosses an‘ mules hid down in de swamp

but my uncle Tom went and got ‚ em an ‚ brung ‚ em to de Yankees at

~e big gate. He didn‘t had to do it. He was jes‘ mean. He hadn‘t

been much good to massa since de war commenced; lay off in de swamp

11108‘ of de tine, .. Arter he brung massa‘s hosses an‘ mu‘es to de