He knew just exactly when it was time for crawfish to be
plentiful down in the Claiborne and Marigny canals; just when a
poor, breadless fellow might get a job in the big bone-yard and
fertilising factory, out on the railroad track; and as for the
levee, with its ships and schooners and sailors, how he could
revel in them! The wondrous ships, the pretty little schooners,
where the foreign-looking sailors lay on long moonlight nights,
singing to their guitars and telling great stories,--all these
things and more could Titee tell of. He had been down to the
Gulf, and out on its treacherous waters through the Eads jetties
on a fishing-smack with some jolly brown sailors, and could
interest the whole school-room in the talk-lessons, if he chose.
Titee shivered as the wind swept round the freight-cars. There
isn't much warmth in a bit of a jersey coat.
"Wish 'twas summer," he murmured, casting another sailor's glance
at the sky. "Don't believe I like snow; it's too wet and cold."
And with a last parting caress at the little fire he had builded
for a minute's warmth, he plunged his hands in his pockets, shut
his teeth, and started manfully on his mission out the railroad
track toward the swamps.
It was late when Titee came home, to such a home as it was, and
he had but illy performed his errand; so his mother beat him and
sent him to bed supperless. A sharp strap stings in cold
weather, and a long walk in the teeth of a biting wind creates a
keen appetite.
Pages:
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106