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Jim Lauderdale,
Talladega Springs. Ala.

Jack Kytle

610

AL-47

Approx. 5,453 words

"A DEAD CONVICT DON'T COST NOTHIN' "

"All my life I slaved an' made a good livin' fer her. I giver 'er a
place to live fer goin' on 45 year, an' she didn't never hurt for nothin' to
eat. I slunk aroun' like a hound, takin' things off'n her, when I ought'er 've
busted her with a hick'ry limb. Now look what it got me. I'm here by myself,
dyin' by the graduals, an' she's gone."

Jim Lauderdale slouched there on the front porch of his pine-board shanty,
in the straw-bottomed chair. His thick, knotty fingers trembled as he placed
his hands on thin, denim-covered knees. His bald head glistened in the bright
morning sunlight, but his skin was a puffy, pasty yellow, seared by deep furrows.

He said, "Th' Ol' Man'll be comin' fer me any day now, an' I couldn't
tell you who'll bury me. Doc Grimes says my heart's cuttin' up sump'un terrible.
I'm a ol' man--I'm 76--an' I ain't of no use to nobody. That woman took ever'-
thing I had, an' now she's gone to Sylacaugy to live with our girl. They work
in th' mill up thar. They make $22 a week between 'em, but they don't help me
with none of it. They don't never come to see me."

He raised a shaking hand to his stubbled cheek, as if shielding a secret.
"Ora turned my girl an' my boy ag'in me. She done it. She told 'em a pack

401 B

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