‘100209	.	V~maBe11
			District #2
			Aii~ista, Ga.

~SI4VE ~


Unc~1e Shang Harris
Toccoa, Georgia (Stephens Couiaty)


	“Uncle Shan~“ Harris, at the age of 9?, is more vigorous than many rien twenty years younger. Erect and stocky, holding Ii.i:s white woolly head high, he retains the full favor of living. ~Nhen the interviewer entered his cabin lie rose from the supper table wiping fror~i his mouth the crumbs of a hearty meal, and peered uncertainly through the gathering dark.

	‘Does I ‘meraber ‘bout slav‘ey times?“ HiS facer-relaxed into a broad smile, “G-lory, hallelujah, I sho does I was born den and freed den. ~1hat you wanter know? I kin tell you all about it.“ He led the way to two chairs near the stove.

	~‘My raarster was Mr. Bob Alexander. ::e lived in Franklin County ses‘ dis side o‘ Carnesville. He treated rie good——yes man~, he suc did. My raarster did~‘t have no beatin‘ o‘ his niggers. I didn‘t do no work back in dem tines — nuttin‘ but play. Me and my sister belonged to de youngest boy (dey was seven boys in dat family) and. we jes‘ climbed trees and frolicked all de tliiie. ~e had plenty in de eatin‘ line too.

	“But law chile, eve‘ybody didn‘t have dat. Some de raarsters tied de:r •ni~ers to posts and whupped ‘era till dey nigh killed ‚ ein. Lots o±~ ‚ era run away and ~i d in de wo ods • De marste rs would put de dogs after you jes‘ like a coon. Dey‘d run you and tree you“ initatin~ the sound of baying dogs ~ “oh glory,