owd. They sho did git mad, but nobody seemed
to know who started that ruction. My old Hardshell Baptist friend came
up then and said: 'Curiosity brought us here, and curiosity like to have
killed the cat.'"

Seeing that Nellie was tired, the visitor prepared to leave. "Goodbye
and God bless you," were the old woman's farewell words. At the front
door Amanda said: "I haven't heard my Mother laugh that way in a long,
long time, and I jus' know she is goin' to feel more cheerful after
this. Thank you for givin' her this pleasure, and I hope you can come
back again."

EX-SLAVE INTERVIEW
with
PAUL SMITH, Age 74
429 China Street
Athens, Georgia

Written by:
Miss Grace McCune
Athens

Edited by:
Mrs. Sarah H. Hall
Athens

Mrs. Leila Harris
Augusta

and
John N. Booth
District Supervisor
Federal Writers' Project
Residencies 6 & 7
Augusta, Georgia

Paul Smith's house stands on China Street, a narrow rutted alley
deriving its name from the large chinaberry tree that stands at one end
of the alley.

Large water oaks furnish ample shade for the tidy yard where an old
well, whose bucket hanging from a rickety windlass frame, was supplying
water for two Negro women, who were leaning over washtubs. As they
rubbed the clothes against the washboards, their arms kept time to the
chant of _Lord I'se Comin' Home_. Paul and two Negro men, barefooted and
dressed in overalls rolled to their knees, were taking their ease under
the largest tree, and two small mulatto children were frolicking about
with a kitten.

As the visitor approached, the young men leaped to their feet and
hastened to offer a chair and Paul said: "Howdy-do, Missy, how is you?
Won't you have a cheer and rest? I knows you is tired plumb out. Dis old
sun is too hot for folkses to be walkin' 'round out doors," Turning to
one of the boys he continued: "Son, run and fetch Missy some fresh
water; dat'll make her feel better. Jus' how far is you done walked?"
asked Paul. Then he stopped one of the women from the washing and bade
her "run into the house and fetch a fan for Missy."

Paul is a large man, and a fringe of kinky white hair frames his face.
His manner is very friendly for, noticing that the visitor was looking
with some curiosity at the leather bands that encircled his wrists, the
old man grinned. "Dem's jus' to make sho' dat I won't have no
rheumatiz," he declared. "Mind if I cuts me a chaw of 'baccy? I'se jus'
plumb lost widout no 'baccy