Evening capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1888-1893, 1893-03-23
TIE NEGRO AS A f,orirnmAN.
The White Man IL Base Imitation After
Having Seen a Negro Fishing.

Having Seen Negro Fishing.
To me the colored folks form the
most interesting spectacle in the
south. They are so abundant every
where you travel; they are SO eter-
nally happy, even against fate; they
are so picturesque and funny in dress
and looks and speech; their faults
are so open and SO very human, md
their virtues are so human and adj
mirable. AS l think of them dozen
familiar scenes arise that are COM
monplace there, yet to northerner
are most interesting. Think of their
fondness for fishing.
Somebody has called fishing idle
time not idly spent" and that must
be how the southern colored people
regard it, for they seem to be eter-
nally at it wherever they and any
piece of water-no matter how small
are thrown together. One would
scarcely expect to find the New Or
leans darlzies given to fishing, yet it
is constant delight to them.
They do not merely dangle their
legs over the sides of the luggers and
steamers to sit in meditative repose
above line thrown into the yellow
Mississippi, but they fish in the canals
and open sewers in the streets that
lie just beyond the heart Of the city.
It is delightful to see them.
Those open waterways flowing be-
tween grassy banks out toward the
west end might seem offensive other
wise. but when at every few hundred
feet calm and placid negro man, OF
nanny" with brood Of moon
faced pickaninnies sprawling beside
her, is seen bent over the edges, pole
in hand, the scenery becomes pic
turesque and the sewers turn po-
etical. After one has seen a few
darkies putting their whole souls
into fishing it is painful to see a
white man with rod and line. The
white man always looks like an imi-
tation and a fraud.
From st. Louis to New Orleans,
and all the way through the gulf
states, negroes and fish poles were
forever together, like the happiest
subjects of wedlock. At least one
darky fishing dotted the water view.
Along the lower Mississippi many
colored men now own little farms Of
a few acres, with log cabin, a rifle,
mule, a plow, some chickens and
children, wife and fishing rod.
When passed by the corn was
planted, the springtime sun was
pleasantly warm, and these ebon
monarchs were seated in their dug
outs and skiffs watching their lines.
Some hypercritical white men were
apt to call attention to gaping rent
in the cabin roof, or to the fact that
a days toll at remunerative labor
would bring the means to put In
panes Of glass where the window
holes were stuffed with old trousers
and hats. But that is according to
how one looks at life. If happiness
is it's main aim and the old hats and
trousers keep the weather out, the
fishermen have the best of the argu-
meut. The Indians on the plains be-
lieve that the more a man is civilized
the more care and responsibility he
has, and the tlarky planters who take
nature into partnership on S-acre
claim know that the Indians are right.
Down in Florida, where the St.
Johns river is narrow and very tor
tuous, the passengers on the regular
boat one day were occasionally star
tied by stentorian yells. Hi, darl
What you doinf Can't yer see what
yer about9 Don't you come a-nigh
me-" The reason was evident. A
colored man here and there had fallen
asleep over his fishing rod, and the
great muddy wave which the steamer
sucked along behind her had en-
quilted his little boat and startled the
fisherman out Of half his senses
Julian Ralph in Harper's Weekly.