"I loves to run de cyards for my friends. I always tells 'em when I sees dere's trouble in de cyards for 'em, and shows 'em how to git 'round it, if I kin. None of de res' of my folks ever run de cyards, but I'se been at it ever since I wuz jus' a little gal, pickin' up old wore out cyards, dat had bean th'owed away, 'cause I could see things in 'em. I 'members one time when I wuz small and didn't know so good what de cyards wuz tellin' me, dat a rich man, one of de riches' in Wilkes County, wuz at our place, I tol 'im de cyards when I run 'em. I saw sompin' wuz goin' to happen on his place, dat two colored mens would be tangled up wid, but I didn't know jus' what wuz goin' to happen. And sho' 'nuff, two colored mens sot fire to his barns and burned up all his horses and mules, de onlies' thing dey saved wuz one ridin' horse. Dey ketched de mens, and dey served time for what dey done. One of 'em died way out yonder where dey sont 'em.
"I 'members one white lady way out in Alabama sont a note axin' me to run de cyards for her. I runned 'em and got one of my friends to writer her what I seed. Dey had run bright and dat wuz good luck. One time I runned de cyards for two sisters dat had done married two brothers, and de cyards run so close kin date I wuz able to tell 'em how dey wuz married and dey tol me dat I wuz right.
"And jus' a few days ago a old man come to see me thinkin' dat he wuz pizened. When I runned de cyards, I seed his trouble. He had been drinkin' and wuz sick, so I jus' give him a big dose of soda and cream of tartar and he got better. Den I tole him to go on home; dat nobody hadn't done nothin' to 'im and all he needed wuz a little medicine.
"I told Mr. Dick Armell of how he wuz goin' to git kilt if he went up in his airyplane dat day and begged him not to try it but to wait. He wouldn't listen and went on and got kilt jus' lak I tole 'im he would. I runned de cyards for Mrs. Armell lots of times for I liked 'im, and he wuz a fine man. I runned de cyards for 'im one time 'fore he went to de World's Fair, and de cyards run bright, and his trip wuz a good one jus' lak I tole 'im it would be.
"All de old white folks dat I wuz raised up wid, de Hills from Washin'ton, Wilkes, is gone now, 'cept I think one of de gals is wukin' at de capitol in Atlanta, but she done married now and I don't 'member her name."
Alice excused herself to answer a knock at the door. Upon her return she said: "Dat wuz one of my white chillun. I wukked for 'em so long and one of 'em comes by every now an' den to see if I needs sompin'. Her ma done had a new picture of herself took and wanted me to see it. Dey sho' is good to me."
Alice doesn't charge for "running the cards." She says she doesn't have a license, and is very thankful for anything that visitors may care to give her. She will not run the cards on Sunday. "Dat's bad luck," she said. "Come back some day when tain't Sunday, and I'll see whats in de cyards for you!"
Kizzie Colquitt
Old Aunt Kizzie Colquitt, about 75 years old, was busily washing in her neat kitchen. She opened the door and window frequently to let out the smoke, saying: "Dis old wore out stove don't draw so good." Her hands and feet were badly swollen and she seemed to be suffering.
"I'll be glad to tell all I kin 'member 'bout dem old times," she said. "I wuz borned durin' de war, but I don't 'member what year. My pa wuz Mitchell Long. He b'longed to Marster Sam Long of Elbert County. Us lived on Broad River. My ma wuz Sallie Long, and she b'longed to Marster Billie Lattimore. Dey stayed on de other side of Broad River and my pa and ma had to cross de river to see one another. Atter de war wuz over, and dey wuz free, my pa went to Jefferson, Georgia, and dar he died.