Saving Was Slow And Painful.

In The South Of Long Ago Whenever A New Man Appeared For Work In Any Of The Laborers Gangs, He Would Be Asked If He Could Sing. If He Could He Got The Job. The Singing Of These Working Men Set The Rhythm For The Work.

I Knew The Whistle Of Each Of The River Boats On The Tennessee.

You've Got To Appreciate The Things That Come From The Art Of The Negro And From The Heart Of The Man Farthest Down.

My Big Ears Indicated A Talent For Music. This Thrilled Me.

The Name Of My Ailment Was Longing, And It Was Not Cured Till I Finally Went To The Department Store And Counted Out The Money In Small Coins Before The Dismayed Clerk. When I Came To The House, I Held Up The Instrument Before The Eyes Of The Astonished Household.