The Houma courier. (Houma, La.) 1878-1939, 1896-11-28
me RETIRED 6
what Happened to Him one Nnghs Dswn
In 3 Deep Cellar

- u
What Happened to Him one Night DewA
In = Deep GenAn
"I'm fond Of Holsters" said the re-
tired burglar, but / like 'em best
cooked. And, speaking of 'em cooked,
the best way to eat lobsterl is stewed.
You take good, lively, fresh Holsters
and boil 'em, and then you pick 'em out
and cut 'em up, not too fine, and warm
'em over; putting in a little water to
make a sort of gravy, and a little bit Of
butter and a little pepper, and some salt,
unless you put in salt enough when you
boiled 'em, and maybe just a little touch
of vinegar, though some folks don't like
any vinegar in 'em at all. Then you
serve 'em hot. like to spread a slice of
bread and put that on my plate and
ladle the lobster out on that. You may
think there's better ways of eating lob
sters; but when l nave stewed lob
sters for breakfast 1 forget I'm poor.
But what / set out to tell you about was
q live lobster.
II dropped down one night through
a window that l had opened into q
deep cellar. The window was narrow
and high up. guess it must have been
six or seven feet from the cellar bottom
to the lower edge Of it. OF course, d man
can't walk up a stone wall like that very
well, and so before going upstairs 1
fixed a way of getting out easy, in case
/ should want to go in a hurry, as, of
course, might happen. Imoved a couple
of boxes up under the window, one on
top of the other, making a sort of steps.
When l reached down to pick up my bag
again / didn't strike II at first, and as I
was feeling along for it something
grabbed my hand, nipped it sharp and
hard and hung on. l was startled, sure.
but l realized in an instant that it was a
lobster. You know some folks when
they amt going to cook the Holsters till
morning put EN- out on the grass over
night, or maybe down on the cellar bot
tom, where they'll keep cool and in good
condition, and I'd run against a lobster
Put down in the cellar.
when / stood up the lobster was still
hanging on. l threw out my hand, nat
ural enough, l suppose, with an idea
of throwing the lobster off, but instead
of that / banged him against the big
zinc cylinder around the furnace. 1t
sounded like hittin' a big iron drum
with a club. That startled me, too, and
when l stepped back to get away from
the furnace / fell over into the coal
bin. There was a narrow opening inthe
side of the bin where they took down
one board at q time as the coal got lower
there, until they'd got down to just one
board at the bottom, and I'd stumbled
over that and fell backward on the coal.
The lobster was still hanging on. I
thought [ made noise enough Gathering
against the board and falling on the
coal, but the minute I struck the coal
| started a coal slide. From where the.
boards had been taken GU, the coal
sloped up high against the side of the
cellar; my falling on the foot OF it
started the whole face of the slope NOV
ing. 1t made more noise than a load of
coal dumping on the sidewalk.
stepping out Of the coal bin, I
knocked down the coal shovel leaning
against it just outside, and the big fur
mace poker. Noise? Humph! And all
this time the lobster was still hanging
on-you see, it takes me some little time
to tell you about it all, but it took
little time for it all to happen.
"As the poker banged down I heard
folks coming down the stairs from the
second floor to the floor above the cell
lar. OF course, there was just one thing
for me to do, and that was TO get out.
While the folks was coming down from
the second floor to the first / was MAX
ing for the cellar window; and the lob
ster never let go till 1 stepped up on the
first box."-N. Y. Sun.