Connecticut western news., 1875-01-22
WESTERN LIFE.
? Old Times on tho Mississippi.


 -. /" WESTERN LIFE.
 ..z Old Times on the Mississippi.
 When I was boy, there was but one permanent ambition among my com rades in our village on the west bank of the Mississippi river. That was, to be a steamboatman. We had transient am b1tions of other sorts, but they were only transient. When circus came and went, it left us all burning to become clowns; the first negro minstrel show that came to our section left us all suffer- ing to try that kind of life; now and then we had hope that if we lived and were good, God would permit us to be pirates. These ambitions faded out, each in its turn; but the ambition to be steam boatman always remained. -..... .,
 Once day cheap, gaudy packet ar rived upward from St. Louis, and an- other downward from Keokuk. Before these events had transpired, the day was glorious with expectancy; after they had transpired, the day was dead and empty thing. Not only the boys, but the whole village felt this. After all these years l can picture the old time to myself now, just as it was then: the white town drowsing in the sunshine of a summers morning; the streets empty, or pretty nearly so; one or two clerks sitting in front of the Water street stores, with their splint- chairs tilted back against the wall, chins on breasts, hats slouched over their faces, asleep-with shingle-shavings enough around to show what broke them down a SOW and litter of pigs loating along the sidewalk, doing good business in watermelon rinds and seeds; two or three lonely little freight piles scattered about the " levee," pile of "skids " on the slope of the stone-paved wharf, and the fragrant town drunkard asleep in the shadow of them; two or three wood flats at the head of the wharf, but nobody to listen to the peaceful tapping of the wavelets against them; the great Mis- sissippi, the majestic, the magnificent Mississippi, rolling its mile-wide tide along, shining in the sun; the dense for est away on the other side; the "point :" above the town, and the "point 7" be- low, bounding the river glimpse and turning it into sort of sea, and withal a very still and brilliant and lonely one. Presently film of dark smoke appears above one of these remote "points;" in- stantly negro drayman, famous for his quick eye and prodigious voice, lifts up the cry, "s-te-a-m-boat a-comin'!'' and the scene changes The town drunkard stlrs, the clerks wake up, furious clat- ter of drays follows, every house and store pours out human contribution, and all in twinkling the dead town is alive and moving. Drays, carts, men, boys, all go hurrying from many quar- ters to common center, the wharf.
 Assembled here, the people fasten their eyes upon the coming boat as upon wonder they are seeing for the first time. And the boat is rather hand some sight, too. She is long and sharp and trim and pretty; she has two tall, fancy-topped chimneys, with gilded device of some kind swung between them; Q fanciful pilot-house, all glass and gingerbread" perched on top o1 the "texas " deck behind them the paddle-boxes are gorgeous with pic ture or with gilded rays above the boats name the boier-deck, the hurricane deck, and the texas deck are fenced and ornamented with clean white railings
 there is flag gallantly flying from the jack-staff j; the furnace doors are open and the fires glaring bravely ; the upper decks are black with passengers the captain stands by the big bell, calm, i'm. posing, the envy of all /; great volumes of the blackest smoke are rolling and rumbling out of the chimneys- hus banded grandeur created with & bit ot pine just before arriving at a town the crew are grouped on the forecastle the broad stage is run far out over the port bow, and an envied deck hand stands picturesquely on the end of it with coil of rope in his hand; the pent steam is screaming through the gauge-cocks; the captain lifts his hand, bell rings, the wheels stop then they turn back, churning the water to foam, and the steamer is at rest. Then such scram ble as there is to get aboard and to gel ashore, and to take in freight and to dis charge freight, all at one and the same time and such yelling and cursing as tue mates facilitate it all with Ter | minutes later the steamer is under WAY again, with no flag on the jack-staf anc no black smoke issuing from the chim neys. After ten more minutes the tow1 is dead again, and the town drunkarG asleep by the skids once more.
 My father was a justice of the peace and I supposed he possessed the powel of life and death over all men and could hang anybody that offended him. Thi
 was distinction enough for me, as !; general thing; but the desire to be steamboatman kept intruding, never I thelsss. I first wanted to be cabin boy, so that I could come out with white apron on and shake table-clotl | over the side, where all my old comrades could see me; later I thought would rather be the deck-hand who stood ol the end of the stage-plank with the coi | of rope in his hand, because he was par | hcularly conspicuous. But these wer, only day dreams were too heavenl, to be contemplated as real possibilities By-and-bye one of our boys went away He was not heard of for long time. A
 last lls turned up as apprentice enginee
 or |" "striker'' on a steamboat. Thi
 thing shook the bottom all out of m, Sunday school teachings. That boy hat been notoriously worldly, and I just tn, reverse; yet he was exalted to this emi hence, and left in obscurity and misery
 There was nothing generous about thi
 fellow ill his greatness. He would al
 ways manage to have rusty bolt t. scrub while his boat tarried at our town and he would sit on the inside guar' and scrub it, where we could all see hin and envy him and loathe him. Ant
 whenever his boat was laid up he woul,
 come home and swell around the town il
 his blackest and greasiest clothes, s
 that nobody could help Irememberinl
 that he was @ steamboatman and h | used all sorts of steamboat technicaJitia
 in his talk, as if he were so used to then