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James Kerby Ward

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"Well, to begin with I'm the poorest fellar you ever saw about
remembering dates and such, my wife 'll have to help out a lot, I
imagine. 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 wi11 do her good to rest a little, anyway."

Mrs. Ward, unusually stoutt and very pale, came in reluctantly.

"Sweetheart, this is Mrs. Whad-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
nothin." At this 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 onliest 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 came to Jacksonville when he
was a little feller."

"You came here in 1918 and you went to work for the Traction Com-
pany 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

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