The Mankato free press. [volume] (Mankato, Blue Earth County, Minn.) 1879-1924, 1888-03-02
in THE SUNNY SOUTH
Interesting New Orleans Letter
from Gen. J. X. Baker.
Nrw onlrANs. Feb, "a, 1883,

are dripping. We had it here last night
an inch in an hour. Some of the time a
steady down pour, with an intermssion
To get Won out on the streets, and then
soak you. Everything IS damp. Your
room is damp; your clothes are damp;
your bedclothes are damp The air is
clamy. You may fly from Minnesota 10
some imaginary Eden; but you will be
caught in a way you did not anticipate,
and wish yourself back in the clear, clean,
bright atmosphere of the North. Ifthis
cltv was not paved with granite blocks
from New England, it would wash away.
But this rainfall has one blessed result.
Like Ben, Butler, il cleans the city. The
sewerage is all surface, and the general
washaway in the heart of the city, is
complete. But the suburbs catch il.
They are all under water; gardens, veg
etables, etc, are all in the flood The
pumps In the canals don't work, for the
city is ont of coal. The canals have not
been cleaned out for years. The taxes
are assessed and collected; but the mon
ey is all spent before 1t gets to the spot
required. The money goes where the
woodbine twineth, and the city is flood
ed and the canals gorgeu. CITY inn
provements and repairs are not made.
The local politicians get the money, the
people get the promises, and the North
erners come IN to share in the general
cussedness of the situation
OF course if you visit New Orleans,
you will get up early in the morning,
and go the famous French market. Like
a true farmer, l rose by times yesterday
morning, and taking my wife, departed
for the most famous mart in the South.
There are three long market buildings,
each the length of block, somewhat in
echelon, near to the river, in the French
quarter. The first is a meat and fish
market. The beef is mostly from Texas,
and generally poor enough. The ever
lasting stuffed sausageS hang in festoons
all over the building. The bacon Is the
best meat to be seen. Then you come
to the fish quarter. The red snappers
predominant; but the sheepshead, POM
PIANO and shad are abundant. The place
has the peculiar and Inevitable fish stink,
and the odor has been accommodating for
one hundred years, for the first market
ever established on American soil was
here.
Progressing to the next building, you
run against great banks of oranges, piled
like pyramids, and bananas hanging in
punches thicker than IN their native for
ests. You can buy good, full-ripe ba-
nanas for cent piece. These two
fruits confront you at every turn for two
blocks. Hot, black coffee is everywhere
to be had. 1t used to be the thing be-
fore the war, to go down to the French
market and get cup of coffee before
breakfast. That custom is now much
out of date, and the coffee very unpala-
table. The stalls are full of all manner
of vegetables. Cabbages grow in this
climate all winter, and are just now in
their perfection. So do turnips and pars-
nips, raddlshes, onions, and lettuce;
fresh from the gardens, are cheap and
plentiful. Potatoes and tomatoes do not
grow here in the winter, as in Florida.
Everywhere you see cards, In big letters,
such as this: Creole eggs" Creole
butter" etc. The Specification of this
word in such connections is, that they
are fresh and native. As fresh eggs, not
imported. Cows are even designa-
ted as "Creole cows" that is, native
cows. There is no seeming limit to the
variety of things to be found in these
markets; dry goods, tin ware, fancy arti-
cles, shells, and every conceivable thing
Here Is fellow Offering PARROTS. Good
birds are sold at from $l2 to $25. One
that can swear IN two languages, the
Italian vender will want $50 for. Monk
les are offered you at from SIS TO $40
All tropical birds are abundant, and
SINGING birds at all prices. Most of the
vendors are women, fat and greasy,
French is the prevailing tongue. The
American markets are all on the other
side of Canal street. Through mazes of
this sort you wander till you are weary.
This market was once the most famous
of any in the United States. But time
and change has left it but the tradition
Of a great name. We priced few par
rots, but found them very sinful in
their talk, and so buying some nice Lou
lsiana oranges, We lodged between
showers and reached the "Hotel Royal"
without being washed away.
NEW ORLEANS, Feb %.
Now is the rain of our discomfort
made glorious summer by sunny South
ern skies. The city is washed clean, the
cutters are no longer like rivers, and
the penetrating moisture is dispelled by
the warmth of a June-like sun. We
sally forth to enjoy life anew. Earth
and sky have been made over again.
We visit Esplanade, st. Charles, Pry-
tania, and other noted streets, so finely
decorated with the palatial homes oft
Crescent city. Choice flowers and rare
tropical plants are to be seen on every
hand. Elegant and attractive resi-
dences, built in Southern style, with
large verandas and airy halls, surround
ed by large grounds Astounding IN flow
ers, salute the eye. The mildness of
the temperature, the green grass on
private lawns, the blooming flowers
please the eve of the Northern wander
er. The roses are N bloom; the pansies
are bright, with their pretty faces newly
washed; the golden yellow of the mock
oranges among the dark green foliage
looks tempting, while scores of flowers
whose names l do not know are lifting
their shining blossoms from the recent
baptism of rain. AS we go further into
the suburbs we find orange trees with
their wife bridal blossoms ladened with
fragrance. Where there are peach
trees they are blushing with bloom.
Here and there a cherry tree is white
with flowers, and the young fig leaves
are pushing out and are about The size
of a squirrels ears. There Is fresh
ness and fragrance to this CHEEKY morn
Ing, IN brilliant contrast with the murky
days in which we were enveloped in
clouds and washed with floods. But the
back streets of the city are in horrible
condition. Far away we see houses three
feet In wafer. The gardens are sub
merged, the fences have drifted away,
and the people are moving about on
skitfs and RATS. The damage is immense
and the people are asking what has be-
come of the tax money paid by them to
have the streets drained.
New Orleans is not like cities with
which we are familiar. 1t has no farm
ing country Immediately adjacent. 1t
is at least thirty miles before you reach
a farming region, and then they are
plantations which do not contribute To
the daily life of the city. The place was
dependent primarily upon the river,
and now also upon railroads. 1t is sur
rounded by swamps and lakes. The st.
Charles road is the only one leading any
distance out. The old "Shell road,h
once noted for speeding fast horses, is
out of repair and no longer a popular
drive. Nearly all the cross streets are
simply impossible. The main streets
are paved with New England granite,
and driving is no pleasure. But the
city Is well-favored with street car ser
vice. With Canal street as a common
centre, Il street cars reach every por-
ton of the city and you can 90 every-
where without difficulty. The public
gardens, the cemeteries, the Jockey
Club grounds, the race track, the West
end and Spanish Fort, and all places of
resort are reached by the street cars.
They are used on all occasions. Going
to the theatre and returning; and the
ladies going to the evening party in full
IIGn no az Tn