Mis' Combinder she holler out an she say, 'What my girls goin' to do?
Dey ain't never dressed deyselves in dey life. We can't cook? What we
do?' An' de soldiers didn't pay no attention. Dey just marched 'em off.

An' ol' man Combinder he lay down an' he have a chill an' he die. He die
because day take his property away from him.

Yes, ma'am, Thank you for the quarter. I's goin' to buy snuff. I gets
along good. My grandson he hauls wood for de paper mill. An' my
granddaughters dey works for folks cooks an takes care of children. I
had a good crop dis year. I'll have meat, I got lots of corn, an' I got
other crops. We're gettin' along nice, mighty nice. Thank you ma'am."




Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson
Person interviewed: Henry Walker, Hazen, Arkansas
Age: 80


I was born nine miles south of Nashville, Tennessee. The first I ever
knowed or heard of a war, I saw a lot of the funniest wagons coming up
to the house from the road. I called the old mistress. She looked out
the window and pushed me back up in the corner and shot the door. She
was so scared. I thought them things they had on their coats (buttons)
was pretty. I found out they was brass buttons. I peeped out a crack it
was already closed 'cept a big crack, I seed through. Well, the wagons
was high in front and high in the back and sunk in the middle. Had pens
in the wheels instead of axels. Wagon had a box instead of a bed. The