# Creole Sketches/An Ultra-Canal Talk

AN ULTRA-CANAL TALK
(Stranger approaches an ancient Creole house, rings the bell, and beholds the landlady. Landlady says something. Stranger loquitur in surprise:)
"He is dead?"
"Oh, oui, monsieur; 'e ees det, and dere is not person sorry. 'E vas all vat vas of most troublesome. All ze time vat 'e liv, I have troubles vit peoples vat come to see 'im. For everybody know 'im to be one mad, who like to spend his money in foolishness and bêtises. After his son die he not have nobody for 'im look after. So dey come to sell to 'im litograph, vich dey make 'im to believe to be oil painting by great master; an' 'e pay one, two, tree hoondred dollaire for litograph vich cost no more as fifty cent. Ven I tell 'im not ​buy, 'e tell me I vas one ignorant an one imbecile vich have not appreciation of art. After ven 'e fin' out not oil painting, 'e call zem curssed camel—two-hump camel, an' heap of robber (tas de voleurs) and charogne; an' 'e wish dem all blast by ze feefty tousand flames of hell. So zat 'e not talk of oder tings — only of robbers and liars and assassinses.
"Ven zey could not more sell to 'im play-bills as oil-painting of great master, zey sell to 'im of daub as water-color picser. 'E pay seventee dollaire for vat cos' not more as tree cent each. Ze frames wort perhaps six dollaire! At las' 'e fine out how zey 'im swindle; an' 'e talk of robber an' murderer an' camel of two hump. And 'e say dis country ze most curssed country vat exist — all vat be of mos' canaille and racaille and charogne.
"Ven as dey not could more to him sell picser, zey sel to 'im vat you call ​céramique, old cup and saucer and dish vat wort not more as ten cent and vat dey tell 'im from China come. 'E pay t'irty dollaire, as dey tell 'im very 'ard for find. But 'e find one day undare bottom of cup one word like 'birmingham'; and 'e swear so dreadful vat I have me de finger in de ear to put. After 'e not talk more but of tief and liar, and of assassin and of infames and infant of ze devill and children of 'ell — vich 'e wish open and swallow zis sacré charogne de pays. And 'e also say more vat I not you dare racount.
"Also dey sell to 'im boots vat sole vat of paper was made and coat vat was glueded together, an' I not ever could 'im prevent to pay fiftee dollaire for ze coat an' ten dollaire for ze boot. Sixtee dollaire! And ven zat ze boot go into pieces an' ze coat tomble into rag, 'e could not enough to swear in such manner zat people hear 'im more as tree block. Ze same ​night 'e swear all night so as no one could fall 'imself to sleep. 'E said tings so terrible zat I stuff to me de ears wit cotton; but all same I hear 'im swear until ze sun get 'imself up.
"After, dey sell 'im furnisser, armoire, table, bed, chair for mahogany — vat was pine covered wit sometings. 'E pay tree hoondred dollaire! Ze table was only glueded and one day it burst ven he dere put to 'im de elbow; and ze bed also only glueded together. 'E go to law, but ze oder peoples much vas rich, and 'e lose five hoondred dollaire wit lawyer an' 'e soon tire of law.
"After zey sell to 'im vine vat not vas vine and fisky vat not vas fisky an' 'e pay like one millionaire zough 'e not have much of money. Not ever could I prevent 'im to buy or to be swindle."
"Did he say anything before he died?"
'I tink so! 'E not sick — never sick at ​all. 'E die sitting in ze berceuse. For 'e vas very old, very, very much old. And some one came to sell to 'im sometings. 'E try to get up; but not could, and 'e not let me to help 'im. So I not help 'im; and 'e say, 'Mon bon Dieu, have me mercy — Oh, le tas de canaille! Pray you for me! Oh, les sacrés voleurs! Lord have me pity! — Charogne de pays! — I believe me in de heaven for ze good! Oh, de curssed wretch! — Holy angel 'elp me up! — Oh, ze camel of two hump! — Oh, mon Dieu, miséricorde! — zis be one infame country of assassin and robbaire!' So 'e pray an' so 'e swear. So 'e die wit — 'Charogne de pays!' And ven ve sell of 'im ze picsers for vat 'e pay one fortune, dey bring not more as tree dollaire an' t'irdeen cent. But 'e 'ave near one hoondred years ven dat 'e be dead. I tink 'e ought have to be det."