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THE BIG RICH FELLER
By Charles Tenney Jackson
WAS rolling a little bull and brown paper
in front of Frank’s place when we first
saw the Julia Gibson come down the bia.
A big yaller gas boat with a nigger rub
bing her brass work, some busy for a levee
nigger, and a lot of women under her
awnin’,
Frank stirs his Cajun coffec and says: “ Reckon
the oyster commission’s got dat new boat and
done laid the ol' Lowisiana up at last.”
I stirs my cofice and says: “It's some big
rich feller come down from up Nowth.”
She come up alongside, and the niggers run a
check line asho’, and the women with their para
sols swarmed off and looked at Frank and me
under the gallery and peeked into his sto’. One
of them came close and said: “1s that the awful
black coffee like they give us in N'Awlyins? "
“Black as the heel o hell and strong as Arkan
saw religion,” 1 tells her, and they all lavghed,
She asked me if 1 was Cajun. 1 done told her
1 was an old Johnnie Reb that ain't ever surren
dered. Then they all laughed again, but the big
rich feller throwed back his head and laughed
most of all-—a big barrel of a man with a barrel
of a laugh.
“Old Man Captain,” he says, ““ where did you
get that rake across your for'red?
*“Shiloh,” 1 says, *“first day.”
“ And where did you leave your leg?
“Gettysburg - second day.”
“Yes?” he says, looking me over thoughtfully
“My father was killed the first day.”
Then I looked him over and he was older than
I thought, A settied man, gray around his cars
and yet his eyes twinkled, twinkled.
“Old Man Captain,” says he, * been here long>"”
“Since '65. Retreated right yere after the
surrender. 1 never done surrender! Yere |&t
and your hull Gove'ment can't take me out!”
Then they all laughed again. But the Big
Rich Feller kind of a« a man that knows, “Then
1 reckon you know these swamps and all that's
in 'em. Come on boand and show the cook
what's the matter with the fish he's frving ~the
whalingest big pickeral 1 ever hooked, secing
that 1 never hooked one before ™
“Pickeral? What's that?” | went on board,
sticking my quid under the rail when the women
wasa't looking, and followed him to the kitchen,
The place was full of smoke and the cwk was
hobding his o
“He's trying to fry my 6" wid the Big
Rich Feller.
“Fish?" | yelled when | soe its bead, “You
all cooking that’ Why it'ed gag o Barataria
nigeer to eat that! That's an alligator gar!”
Then the Big Rich Feller Libd back his head
and roared again, s his wile tried 10 sty him
And he wouldn't stop. \ great big man with &
great big volce - no Cajun in thes wonlds ever
could laugh like that, nor | reckon any bedy ol
Right away | knowed he come from where they
have good red boef and lots of it He went
roaring aft to tell all those men and women
who he was shooting ‘round the swamps in this
yacht of his how be'd caught an alligator gar and
srdered his cook 1o cook . A g hareed of &
man, dragging his slver tiggesd rode and tackle
alter him, and followed by bis Btthe seorctary,
aho fddhed around and piched up things after
the Big Rich Foller
They sent & nigger ashore to buy foe and milk
at Frank's place & fool wp river nigeer or he'd
Enowed theve wasn't & cow in Sity miles of the
cypross swampe, sor 4 tol of dry land to pat
her on,
“We come down the Missiusappn and the (i
1l then off 1o soe the big wonnds, suid the sore
tary.
“You-all better go back. This is the free dtate
of Barataria, and it's no place for plonics.”
“ANin't be & funny oM man'™ says one of the
women. “Oh, Mr Gibson, let's sk him 1o pose
for a phctare’
That was me. RigM there in my mosguiter
at and swamp shirt, ke I'd boen totin® mose
ot of the deepy swamp to trade ot Fraok « for
mo salt meat and coffer. She puinted that p
ture machioe at me and | ot around bebind 1
Big Kich Foller.
“Now sev bere,” | done told her, “I'm an of
Johonie that sis't ever suvendered. and | o
treated out yere 1 the swamp with the onle and
bats and frampgs; and me and the Gove ment
we don't Tow 1o have any trouble beg as it otay e
oy Nowth and | stay right yere. So | don'| want
e e sßk that T start any anpleasantaess
“Now OM Man Captain, says the Big Rich
Fefler, “obilige the lady
“Take my donge. | would ke a plcture of
e dawgs. Dawgs Bhe them are powerfol
lm‘.
“Bot we want you. The man that pever «us
rendered”
Anel | swenr she ok me and the dawge pnd
Frank Poret, the Cujun, and ol my traps and
American Sunday Monthly Magazine Section
rat pelts piled in my ol' johnboat, and then put
off laughing to the other women. The Big Rich
Feller looked at me out of his twinkling eyes
while he cut a cigar.
*“Stick it out, OM Man Captain—you and the
Gove'ment! The Gove'ment's after me, too-—
and I ain’t surrendered!”
“You? What's they aiter you for?”
“Oh,” he smiled, “just a few railroads—and
things!"”
1 watched his nigger work on that brass, and
his other niggers fetching drinks for all his folks
aft, and his pretty little wife with the blue para
sol, always smiling at him. *“Sho’!" I says, “the
(io;-:;mt treats you pretty well —you big rich
fellers!”
And when his yaller boat went round the bend,
I didn’t see it no mo’ until the next spring when
I brought my traps in from the deep swamp and
was through totin’ moss. The crabs weren't
runnin’ good, so I was still hanging out in front
of Frank’s place rolling smoke and dripping
cofice with the Cajun. Along come the same old
gas boat, scaring all the owls and frawgs and
‘gators with its chug engine.
Nigger hops asho’ and warps her alongside
with the check line, and the engineer sticks his
head through the window. Up on top under the
awnin’ sits the Big Rich Feller. He seemed all
alone this time, but he looked down and smiled.
“Od Man Captain, ain't you ever moved off
that barrel since 1 was here a year ago?”
“Neo, sir! | ain't surrendered!”
Well, he laughed, and 1 saw the little skinny
secretary behind him look up and motion 1o me
quick. Then 1 saw how tired and wore the Big
Rich Feller looked.
“Come on board, Old Man Captain,” he says.
“And tell me some more about Gettysburg and
your kg, And how's the trapping? "
“Poorly.”
“And your crab-lines? ™
“Too much fresh water coming down the big
river.”
“Well, what you living on? "
“Hope,” 1 says, *and memories.”
He laughed again and went into the cabin.
“I'm going 1o get you a sce gar mysell,” be says.
“ From a box sent me by the King o' Spain.”
The litthe secretary came to me and took my
band right there as | stood in my swamper's
‘lnh-hllhuutmhfluh-yhk.l
“You made him Lugh!” be said low 1o me |
-wma*-mmm—-mymmwmwg
sinee it happened.”
“What? " | says, and then | boked around,
for that big chean boat scomed so still and lone
some, with only a nigeer rabling the brases,
Lillol by an automobile in Euroge,” says the |
socretary. Ve aln’t smiled since or swen any - |
bosdy. Amd be was born in Obio and played |
when be was a boy along the upper river, s now, |
when spring came, be just wanted 1o come down
again. |do belleve, 1o we you, OM Man Cap |
tain'"
The Big Rich Feller came out then, and |
went on with some fooling about the deep swamp
and my throe boun’ pups. i
“Hope and memories,” he says, “may be ol
right for you, but your dawgs book mighty thin. "~
“Reckon . We boen some short of cawn |
oeal for & tiame” {
“What you Rving on then?™ i
“Greens and pot Bgeeh” 1 says. “Dhck |
rreens from the swamps and the Bguch they's |
bt §O.”
e made & motion to the nigger. * Breabfast
for Captsin Johmon -and thiee boun’ dawgs,”
he addod, and then be smiled out of e tieed,
Lined eyes, the Big Rich Feller did. The shinny
bethe feller made wome mote motions; | cosbdnt
tell jost what, only | rechon | was cheeting the
Biz Rich Feller ap and the Kttle feller wanted
e b hewp om
They baought me & bait o bacon and eges on
a sibver dish sedd cofler in a sliver pitcher, but |
hept om. " Greens and pet Bgueh s fine for |
dangs and obd oo begaed cmampurs Boing out
with the owls amd the hats and the soakes and
the gators. Sometimes when we wll our pelts
sl fode out out moss we have lind and sk
along with the greens and pot Bepach! N, o,
we ain't ever sarvendored’
S yom was o the awmy,” be sys, “and 8t
s Yanke? ™
From bell to breakiast and back again’”
Then be amibed sgain. “ Aod you wen't ever
sutrender? 1 sho’ pchon the Gove'ment up ot
Woahaagton se SMtiog s raght: warrying sbuwdt
you, OM Man Captain’ ™
“Yeve Dam' They never yot dast come down
wnd take we'”
Nend then B Bod Rocgh eot bag barved of
& buagh Bhe b Ao Last yenr wben be had o
the follks om boaand and was the jovialet of ‘om
o
CABRIKU)
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Works st Newhburgh N Y
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