The aegis & intelligencer. [volume] (Bel Air, Md.) 1864-1923, 1888-04-27
ellanen1rs.
"AT THE PATGO."

mere ~ very peculiar custom which re-
walls in he rural districts of Louisiana,
Of which he Oldest il Inhabitants cannot tell
the origin. In some points 1t resembles the
old Scott sh game oI the "Wappcnshaw,
but it has local and special features of its
own, which only some dead-and- gone AGA
dian ancestor could explain
AS for the singular name, it is simply a
corruption of "Papcgaie" "Pape," or
"Pop, AS it is called in English, being bright
little bird
The Patgo is II wooden rooster, gaiy dec
GRATED with snowy ribbons, and mounted on
a pole us mark, or target. Prizes are Of
fered so nIany dollars for each wing, so much
for the head but the grand prize falls to the
lucky marksman who brings down the bird.
A horseman dsmountng before the gate
of one of the small cottages in Prairie Manon,
in Southwestern Louisiana, noticed great
excitement in and about the house. Men
were collected in groups, guns were being
cleaned and fired, and that deafening hub
bub prevailed which the soul of tie excitable
Acadian delights in.
The gentleman fastened his horse to post,
and approached venerable looking old man
who sat on the steps Of the house, and who
was gesticulating and shouting with the
most obstreperous of the noisy crowd.
Can you give me lodging tonight, sir ?"
he said, taking off his hat with courteous
inclination of his fine head. The old man
took his pipe from his mouth and stared at
the speaker, who was IL magnificent young
man in the undresscd uniform of the United
States army.
Over six feet in stature, he was finely pro-
porloned, and had n face of singular and
marked beauty. There was game-bag
slung over his shoulder, and he held a rifle.
"Je ne comprends pas monsieur" the old
man answered. Il spike not the language
'mericain."
"And not one word of French" laughed
the stranger. but look here, old fellow, |
must make you understand Been hunting"
pointing to to the full game-bag and gun.
Lost my way" walking about, and turning
from right TO left in confused manner.
"Want some supper" chewing vigorously,
"and, above all, want bed, laying his head
on his band and shutting his eyes. If the
old coon don't understand that speaking pan
tomime, he's an IDIOT"
The old man certainly understood all that
was ridiculous in it, for he laughed aloud,
but courteously repressed his mcrriment and
answered gravely: My garcon, my son,
Jean Baptiste, he SPIKE de 'mericain good.
Jean Baptiste, viens lei
Jean Baptiste came up. A good-lo0king
lad about eighteen, but with II gloomy and
respondent face. In fact, Jean Baptisle had
the air of person crushed by some misfor-
tune for whom the world had no charm. He
listened to the officer, and translated his re-.
quest to his fatLer, who answered him in al
excited speech.
My papa he say re house is full, full. Peo-
pie come feefty mile to shoot at re Patgo to-
morrow; but if monsieur can sleep in re loft
bon he can stay. re first come, he gets re
best bed"
"And as am the last conner, get the loft,
and thankful am | for it," said the officer,
with gay laugh. at isn't pleasant to be
lost In your prairies at night. But my boy,
what in the world is a Patgo?"
Monsieur does not knew re Patgo ?" in Il
tone of establishment. Mon Dieu, that is
strange! LISA bird made out re wood. You
pay twenty-five cents for shot. re man
what brings it down gets re big prize. Such
n pony, all black, no white spot, and he run
like deer !"
II suppose you are going to Try for the
wonderful pony?'
"Ah, Mon D'eu, bu: no! have broken
my gun, md u y will not lend me one. And
WHY? | shoots best, and zey is jaloux. ley
wants me not try. An, and Zey is glad my
gun Is ID phG 'hHdlIIf, Ht DttWeCI
his set teeth, as he gared savagely at the
marksmen.
The stranger looked around, and thought
to himself that even il. this beautiful isolated
region, so remote from the struggling ambi-
tions ofthe world, envy and hatred flourish
ed. "The boy has actually murderous
look" he thought, land those fellows must
be mean set of beggars to treat him SO"
Look here, Jean BaptjSte," be said aloud.
"YOu shan't be balked of your shot. You
shall take my rifle; it's IA tirst-rate one. You'd
better try IL now, with the other marksmen,
till you get accustomed to its weight"
II he had rescued Jean Baplisle from ter
Iible fate, the ACadian could not have been
more vehement in his expressions of graft
tude In queer patois of French and Eng
lsh, mixed with hysterical sobs, he poured
forth his thanks, The stranger sauntercd
leisurey after him, and watched with keen
eyes the Workmanship of the Acadians.
"Jean Baptiste isn't half bad shot," lie
said to himself, but the boys too nervous.
Dare say he'd have done better ii he hadn't
been tearing his nerves to fiddle strings this
evening. Funny people, these Acaciansl
Too excitable and noisy ever to make good
marksmen."
That night, in the loft which Jean Baptiste
shared with him, the boy confided to him
his reason for wishing to win the prize. He
sat on his mattress, his great brown eyes
luminous with excitement, and his express
sive gestures piecing out his Imperfect
speech.
"You see, monsieur, vas born here, aud
nevaire hat been feefty mile from re prairie.
You see tall tree far off iu re maraisY |
hat nevaire been more far | climb it, look
far out. say, Jean Baptiste Avran, if you
had pony for you own, you could run away.
You could gallop, gallop into re big world,
and who knows, make a heap of money"
"Ah, Grand Dieu, is so tired" throwing