Cairo evening times. [volume] (Cairo, Ill.) 1865-1866, 1865-09-07
THE CAIRO THAT WAS.
Dips into OEd cairo Life.
THE PLACE, THE PEOPLE, OC-
CURRENC AND PASTIMES.
BY NOSE HARRELL.
NUMBER ".

Not more than one half Of the population of
Cairo, before the last successful effort to build
up the city, lived in houses. The river bank
from the lower extremity of the town, to
point as far up the river as Sixth street, was
lined by three large wharf. boats and from ten
! to twenty family, trading aud boarding boats.
Some of the family boats, to avoid the labor
of pumping, were grounded and permitted to
remain high and dry upon the bank. These,
with the immense drift logs, acres of rubbish
| and wrecks of old tlatboats aud barges scat.
| tered along the shore, gave the city front an
| appearance incomparaby and indescribably
ragged. That individual who, at some points,
| would gain the top Of the levee from the
waters edge, would, in turning, twisting and
avoiding the heaps of rubbish leave q trail as
| tortuous as the celebrated 81 Mist 5" over which
old as we'll as young heads have been sorely
puzzled.
Two occurrences as l progress, of q tragic
character, are deserving of brief meation. In
one of these boats was bakery conducted by
| Polander known as Louis, familiarly called
"Lewey." He lived rather quiet, unobtru-
sive life, and seemed to be getting along as
we'll and happily as his neighbors. Attention
| was drawn to his boat cne morning by a noise
and groaning within. Those who entered be-
held spectacle not easily banished from men,
ory. On the floor lay Louis, weltering in his
own blood, his throat cut from ear to ear.
That it was a case of suicide was clear, but
hat tod tho
known. This affair occurred in the early part
| of the year lS4S.
! The other is a case of death without aid of
any known violence. Amos Worthington and
Tom Pritchard were partners in the catfish
business. They occupied small boat near
the point, and how Tom lost his partner was
detailed by that individual about thus:
''Amos and took it turn about in cooking
breakfast. We went to bed all right, Amos
about as sober as usual, and slept well enough
till daylight. / waited for Amos to wake for
nearly an hour, and then I commenced to
punch him. He didn't seem to mind it much,
| so just kicked down the kiver, brought up my
| heels over partners stomach and then let 'em
down on him-me don all this when if he
want dead the whole time d me-" This
Tom related to the last day and every day of
his life as a ''big thing" on Amos, and never
without laughing most heartily.
And a few months wore away and Tom died
in the same boat and in the same bed where
Amos had so unaccountably shuffled off the
coil of mortality. 1--WE baited my last hook
and flung my last fish, gasped he to by
stander-'but bury my tackle with mel Who
knows that fish will not bite in Jordan?" In
the twinkle of an eye it might have been said
"poor TOMS a-cold"'
So he died.
Tom Pritclard had been man of respecta-
bility. Ten years before that period he held
the office of Sheriff iu one of the richest and
most populous counties of Indiana. He moved
in the best circles, was respected alike for his
intelligence and integrity. Sixteen years ago
he died ON this delta a drunkard and pauper;
and where he now sleeps his last sleep Is not
known aud may never be discovered.
Cairo had been my home but a week when
l Was called to witness the saddest scene of my
life.
"a slow paced sable train left a transient
steamer and bearing along with it the corpse
of an unknown woman, sought the shades of
the contiguous forests. There strong arms and
willing hands soon sunk grave, and into this
the unknown dead was tenderly lowered. As
the clods ratified upon the rude coffin gray
haired man, with streaming eyes, knelt upon
the grave-side, and poured out prayer that
could only have been sprung by inspiration.
He prayed for tho peaceful rest of the stranger
among strangers, that her discnthralled soul
might be tasting the fruits of everlasting bliss;
and when he asked for Gods blessing upon
} those-a father, brother, sister or mother who
might be looking and longing for the coming of
the dear one, whose sad, lonely burial they
were celebrating; when lie spoke of the riveH
, hearts which would never welcome her, the
J then of the sad, lone, unknown and unmarked
home that should contain her ashes forever,
no eye was dry and no breast sought to con-
; ceal the great deep grief that convulsed it.
To-day the drays of a busy city rattle above
, that forgotten grave, but the gentle sleeper
q sleeps on her sleep of eternity.
Youmay ask relief from this deathly, monot
0 onous train Of dealing. In my next paper ex
t pect it.
II SUCCEEDISG.-We are pleased to learn tha
g our friend Comings, who succeeded Val
d dc Bogart in the Cairo and Mississippi Ex
}. press and Purchasing Agency IS meeting witt