"I was so close up to him I could see him plain as I see you. He had
fingernails dat long, all cleaned an polished. He was tull, an had on a
derby hat, an stylish black clothes. When I walk slow he slow down, an
when I stop, he stop, never oncet lookin roun. My feets make a noise on
de cinders tween de rails, but he doan make a mite o' noise. Dat was de
fust thing got me scairt, but I figger I better find out for sho ifen he
be a sperrit; so I say, gook an loud: 'Lookee here, Mister, I jez an old
colored woman, an I knows my place, an I wisht you wouldn't walk wid me
counta what folks might say.'

"He never looked roun no moren if I wan't there, an I cut my eyes roun
to see if there is somebody I can holler to for help. When I looked back
he was gone; gone, like dat, without makin a sound. Den I knowed he be a
hant, an de nex day when I tell somebody bout it dey say he be de genman
what got killed at de crossin a spell back, an other folks has seen him
jus like I did. Dey say dey can hear babies cryin at de trestle right
near dere, an ain't nobody yit ever found em.

"Dat ain de ony hant I ever seen. One day I go out to de smokehouse to
git a mess o' taters. It was after sundown, but still purty light. When
I gits dere de door be unlocked an a big man standin half inside. 'What
you doin stealin our taters!' I hollers at him, an pow! He gone, jes
like dat. Did I git back to dat house! We mighty glad to eat grits an
cornbread dat night.

"When we livin at Titusville, I see my old mammy comin up de road jus as
plain as day. I stan on de porch, fixin to run an meet her, when all of
a sudden she be gone. I begin to cry an tell de folks I ain't gonna see
my mammy agin. An sho nuff, I never did. She die at Sanderson, back in