Connecticut western news., 1886-07-14
THE BANANA THIEF.
BY HENRY NEWPORT.

 The ssFeuilleton," which has so long been feature of the newspapers of Paris, is rapidly being engrafted upon the strong stock of American journalism, and now the daily story is looked for by many readers as eagerly as arc the stock reports by others. Because of this fact, put the following matter in the form of story, instead of the stereotyped style of newspaper letter, and in genuine story fashion open with Q few words of talk from the lips of one of the characters. In this case, she is Mary" the we'll known Choctaw peddler of roots and herbs, whose station is near the down. town entrance of the famous French Market, in New Orleans. Hear her:
 "Eb, 6ien, gentymans! it is true. I am no banan this morning-not one. He is stole, that banan. Two bunch banan stole, and the thief-the thief he is snake"
 Seeing the doubtful look upon our faces, Mary pointed a copper-colored fore finger toward her stock in trade spread out upon the pavement around her.
 "Ea, liem, gentymansr' she said in in her unmodulated voice. 'It is true. See, am no banan thls morning."
 Sure enough, the noble bunch of ba- nopas xrb;,h haI baop bor ,,r,Jo principal source of revenue, as we'll as the envy of every other Choctaw vender in the market, for To these many days, was conspicuous by its absence, and Mary's stock-like that of her compat- riots-was made up solely of some pitt full bark canoes, beaded moccasins, punches of dried herbs and roots, and about two quarts of swamp blackberries. "And the thief2" asked my compan- ion, Gustave-a member of the New Or leans police force-after taking three lazy pulls at hls cigarette and ejecting the smoke in slender streams from his nostrils. 'Is he here? Was he one of your neighbors7"
 ''He is not here; no. He is not man he. He is snake"
 Like all other Indians, the Choctaw berry vendors, who gather in little group each morning at one end of the French market in New Orleans, are not voluble. "How much2" you will ask, pointing at square piece of clean bark upon which handful of berries is piled, and the Indian will hold up two fingers indicating cents-or three, or four, as the case may be. Sometimes he will put the price into words; but his con- versation is, in general, reserved for his own people in the privacy of his native swanps. The enterprise which had in- ducel Mary to add bunch of bananas to her home-gathercd roots and herbs had led to her acquiring more extend ed vocabulary than that of any of hel relatives, and the excitement consequent upon her great loss made her use il more freely, this morning, than ever be- fore Tn the D, esence of white men.
 "Ycu are not believe that thief i snake9'
 She pushed her coarse black hair be hind her ears and scowled at us from beneath her wiry eyebrows. Then sht beltcd the loose calico wrapper whicf she wore with her outs retched fingers and ierked her head toward the circum ference of her waist thus indicated.
 'That snake is big through like am His head is little like my two fists, ant he is long-eh, 6ien! he is long like ship.
 'sYou know that Tchoupitoulas road Yes. I am live there. Two mile iron there, where the river bends in anl comes near my wigwam. am hang my banan in that live-oak tree, wher, the wind can keep him fresh, and whel l am come up from the river, befor yester night, with water for boil in tn pot, that snake is come down out of tn live-oak. He is black, and he is crawl and crawl, and c-r-a-wlr'
 She initiated the serpent's slow, gid ing motion with her skinny arm an hand.
 s.And then, when I am stiff wit fraid, he jumps"-
 Her hand dumped" and clutched bunch of wild ginger.
 "And snap goes my banan-stem, an he is gone. Eh, bien, gentrymans! H is gone off in the swamp with my banar That is one. 1 buy me some nor banan. That snake is gone in tn swamp. I hang my banan in the live oak, and that other night-the las night-he is here again, and this morr ing I am no banan."
 She waived her hand with trag gesture above the meagerly spread paw ment, as though saying, "Here is pro- of my words-there is no banana here
 ''I believe her." remarked Gustav oracularly. He threw his head bat upon his shoulders and sent thirteen pc feet rings of smoke, one after anothe from between his lips. "We will go O there this evening and scotch that snak what do you sayP'
 ssBut . nake can have no possible U for bananaa. 6erpents are frugivorous s9 3qntt - xAnt thsy axe. Aa