Manuscripts/Mixed Material [James Kerby Ward]
She's got a heap better mem'ry than me.” He raised his voice a trifle and called to his wife in the dining room, “Come in here, sweetheart, and set down a minute.” Turning to me, he said, “Her [health?] ain't so good and it'll do her good to rest a little, anyway.”
Mrs. Ward, unusually stout and very pale, came in reluctantly.
“Sweetheart, this is Mrs. [had-y'?] say-the-name-was?”
“What did you say you wuz a-sellin,” she asked me. “I'll just tell you we had so much sickness lately that we ain't in no shape to buy [?].” At that point her husband explained, “Mr. Whitfield wants me to give her my life history, and I want you to help me out a little ‘cause you know me better than I know myself.
“A Feller's wife usually does know more ‘n the man does hisself about his own life. We married a-way back in 1913 and that boy there was the oldest one of the children that was not born here.’ He nodded to his son sitting in the next room at the dining table. ‘He was born at Worthington Springs 21 years ago and we come to Jacksonville when he was a little feller.”
“You came here in 1918 and you went to work for the [Traction?] Company the next day,” Mrs. Ward interposed.
Mr. Ward continued: “A man didn't need no pull or nuthin in them days to get a job. All he had to do was to use his own [face?]. Business was good then and jobs wuz plentiful. But I've seen times change with all kinds of business since then. When times get hard the transportation