mouth fairly waterin for a chunk ob de cake. When de first shot of war
went off no more could be heard ob old Mr. Wimbeish. He lef an never was
heard tell ob no mo. _He said never was a Yankee had a hart he didn't
understand_! I never did know whut he was. He jess said that right
smart.

I gets the Old Age Pension and meets the wagon and gets a little
commodities. I works my garden and raises a few chickens round my house.
I trusts in de Lord and try to do right, honey, dat way I lives.

Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson
Person interviewed: Maria Sutton Clements, De Valls Bluff, Ark.
Age: Between 85 and 90
[TR: Also reported as Maria Sutton Clemments]

"Miss, I don't know a whole heap bout Mr. Wimbeish. I don't know no
other name that what they all call him. Some I heard say it like
Wimbush. He was a great big man, big in here [chest], big in here
[stomach]. He have hair bout color youn [light]. He have big blue eyes
jes' sparklin' round over the victuals on the table. He was a lively
man. He had a heap to tell and a heap to talk bout. He had fair skin and
rosy jaws--full round face. He laughed out loud pretty often. He looked
fine when he laughed too. They all was foolish bout him. He was a
newcommer in there. I don't know whah he stay. He come down the road
regular as Friday come, going to practice em marchin'. Looked like bout
fifty fellows. I never seed Mr. Wimbeish on a horse all time he passed
long that road. He miter jes' et round mong the people while he stayed
there. He wore red 'appletts' on his shoulders. I never seed him outer
that fresh starched white suit. It was fishtail coat and had red bands
stitched all round the edge and white breetches [britches] [TR:
'britches' is marked out by hand] with red bands down the side. He sure
was a young man. They had him bout different places eatin'. Old mistress
said, 'Fix up a good dinner today we gwiner have company.' That table
was piled full. It was fine eatin'. He say so much I couldn't forgit.
Never was a Yankee what have a heart he couldn't understand. I don't
know what he was. He was so different. He muster been a Southerner
'cause white folks would not treated him near that good. It was fo de
war. They say when the first bugle blowed fo war he was done gone an'
nebber been heard of till dis day. I heard some say last they seed him,
he was rollin' over an' over on the ground and the men run off to find
em nother captain. I don't know if they was tell