Evening journal., 1900-02-26
THE RIVER RousrAsoUr.
He Is stIn Doing Business at the old
Stand.

Stand.
One who makes a trip up the river
and watches the antics Of the negroes
and listens to their wierd songs and
tales will not agree with the iconoc-
last who says that all the beauties and
the picturesque features have faded
out of the steamboat mans life AS
line Of negroes goes up the hill un.
der the glare of the searchlight with
their peculiar swinging tread and sing
the music, which seems somehow to
be a essential part of the action, the
light Is one which has a strange wild
ness about it and a fascination, too.
The negro is not the snme as he was
before the war. Conditions have
changed too much for that But he has
retained his love for the fantastic and
most of those barbaric customs which
civilization seems unable to eradicate
from the African mind.
The first mate has undergone a
marked metamorphoris, and to his
change is due some portion of the new
features in the deckhand's character.
Time was when the first mate had a
vocabulary which would make an or
dinary sailors parrot die for shame.
He had this vocabulary, and the ne
groes held the same opinion as the
one who answered when asked II he
did not object to the mates abuse,
mo, boss, dat's whut he's paid for.
He's got to make out he's doin' some
thin an it don't do us no HARM" Now
the deckhands actually object to be-
ing sworn at when the oaths become
too vigorous. The pay of the deck
hand is usually $50 a month, even
when the business is only moderately
heavy, and last winter, during the big
rush, crew of negroes refused to ship
because the wages did not suit them.
They were offered 800 per month, but
wanted 500 for the trip.
The first peculiarity which strikes
the observer about the deckhand is
his walk. He has climbed up the
steep river embankment when there
was mud all over it, and he has come
down that same slide with a heavy
weight upon his back. He has adopt.
ed a step which prevents him from
slipping, and this gives him a pecu-
liar shuf1ling step unlike any move
ment seen elsewhere. He combines
with this a hoisting Of the shoulders
and a peculiar turn of the head acquir-
ed from turning his face to let a sack
/ rest upon his shoulder. These three
traits are distinctive and give the
declhand a strange appearance upon
the levee, or anywhere on a boat or
away from the river.
AS he works going up the inclines
or along the gangplank, precariously
resting upon a levee's crest, he has
a rhythmic sort Of chant which fits
in with his music. Always the same
class of songs are sung. Usually
there are no words, but some leader
chants and the others voice the chorus
as they bend to their tasks. There
are sack songs and barrel songs and
music for the cotton bale and the
ordinary package. The music varies
with the task, as the movement OF the
negros body varies. The cotton song,
as the bale is lifted forward and al
/ lowed to drop, has a catchy swing to
it. Down go the sharp hooks and the
bale starts up to fall with a quick
thud. So does the music. The other
airs. like all negro music, are har-
monies, not melodies, which are timed
to the labor.
The crap game can be seen in its
full glory only when the deckhand
plays it upon the boats deck. From
the foot Of Presidents Island to the
city no stops are made, and like con-
dition prevails in regard to boats
from the upper river. This is called
the crap limit The negroes are paid
of before they reach the city, and
usually at the last stop before the city.
As soon as the pay is received the
negroes gather and begin to shoot
craps, and the cries for big Dick
and Little Joe" and ada" are heard
until the boat has landed. When It
does some few negroes generally pos
sess the money paid to all.-Memphis
Scinitar.