The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898, 1893-08-12
0 WILL TELL.
A Strange But yeracious Tale from the
Midway P~laisance.

"a koh IN
Midway Plaisance.
Midnight on the Plaisance. The long
street lay wrapped in silence and
shadow, deep and impenetrable. Light
breezes from the great, neaving AXE
beyond stirred with a gentle touch the
matched roofs in the Dahomey village.
Away to the right lay the White City,
glistening in the pale rays of the cleo
trio light. Above, the quiet stars kept
silent watch over the slumbers of the
nations. With slow and measured step
the weary Columbian guard paced his
lonely beat before the huts of the
Africans, counting the weary hours till
dawn would bring relief and re.t.
Anon, he glanced about him at the vii
lage, the huts, strange and incongru-
Gus to western eyes, from which came
no sound save the heavy and regular
breathing of the sleeping Dahomeyans.
All was silent No night lamps glim-
mered in the tiny houses where Nor
pheus held sway.
But bark!
What sound was hat which broke
upon his listening ear, faint and far
off? And see, in yonder distant hut,
half concealed by the rough bark door,
a tiny Pickering light! With sudden
start the wary guard made silent
progress to the spot. Ha~lf-afraid, he
cautiously ventured on, his mind
racked with doubts and fears for his
own safety. What could it mean, this
strange light at such an unholy hour?
And now he heard low voices in earn
est converse and he paused in trepida-
ton. A thousand thoughts flashed
through his mind in one brief moment.
A plot, perchance, for murder and
plumber in it's wake, was hatch
ing in the minds and hearts of the
~treacherous Africans in yonder hut.
He knew not what dark schemes of ra-
pine might not be going forward. and
he listened with bated breath while he
stepped INTO the friendly shadow of a
hut. A single cracking twig might
betray him to certain death, and he
thought of his wife and children with
aching heart. Then, with strained
ears, the night wind brought again that
sound half-subdued which first arrest
ed his attention. A light rattle as if
arrows or deadlier weapons were being
prepared for carnage. Then the sense
of duty came floating back to him,
bringing renewed courage to his sink
ing heart. He vas on guard and on
him it devolved to surprise the conspir-
ators, if such they were, ere it was too
late.
Cautiously he moved forward toward
the hut whence the low voices and that
strange, mysterious rattle, awful in it's
portent, still came at intervals. And
now he is just without the half-opened
door, kneeling on the ground and
eagerly straining every nerve to catch
a word from within. Suddenly the
sound came once again upon the still
night air and a low, hoarse voice whis-
pered with half-suppressed excite
ment: "Seven done, come a natural, dat
time, niger. Fade you again for five.
Gimme dem bones and come, little Joe,
for a point"
With starting eyes the guard still
listened while the answering voice came
back: Cant do it, son. Two bits you
don't come. Five on the high side. Ha!
here's my seven"
With a look Of panied surprise the
disappointed guard silently retraced his
steps from the crap game, only stop
ping to mutter: Blood will tell."-Chi-
cago News.