J‘OLI( STUff, fl~oaID& ~‘
		“}i*nte
	.	joa~ix~ø Anderson :
		Tempe, florLda
		October ZO, 1937
		Jules À. Yre~t

Ay feats make a noies on de cinders twsem de nus, but he doan sehe a sits o‘ noue. i~t sea de fustthing got me scairt, bet I figger I better find otit for eho ifen h. b~e a epsrrit; so I say, gook an loud:

‘Lookee here, lUster, I ils an old colored wo~n, an I knows my place, an I wieht you wouldn‘t walk wid me co&rnta wh*t folks might say.‘

u~i. never looked roun no ~siorst~ if I ~n ‚ t there ‚ an I oui my

oyeu tQUfl tO ace il th~X‘S te eoasbody I oazi holler to for help. ~iem

I lo3ksd back he ~a gons; gone, like dat, without makin a anmd. Den

I knowed lie he a liant ‚ an de nez day when I t oil somebody bout it dey

z~y kis be de geniz~aem what got killed at de crosein a spell back, an other

f 3lke hae seen him jua like I did. Dey say dey can 1~ar babies cry in

at de troatle right near dere, an ain‘t nobody yit ever found em.


	#ti*t am de ~ny hant I ever seem. Œ~e da~ I go ~ut to de &moks~h h~iiae to git a mean o‘ tatere. tt ~s after sundown, but still purty light. ~ien I gits dere de cbor b. unloeked an a big men standin half inside. ‘Amt you dom stealin our taterst‘ I hollers at his, an powi }ie gone, jes•like dat. Did I git back to dat ki~us.~ le mighty glad to eat grits ~n cornbread dat night.


	“~~•n we livin at Titueville, I see m~‘ old emaniy con~in up di road jus as plain ~a day. I stan on de porche ÎLXIZI to run an meet her, whem all of a sudden she be gone. I begin to cry an toll de folka I ain‘t gO~~na ee~ ray ~zaay agizi. An sho nuff, I neYer did. S~e die at $nd•r— ~oz1, back in west florida, fore I got to see her.