Waterbury Democrat., 1902-11-18
DIDN'T UNDLICoIA ND.
How a Little Colored Boy Fooled a
Washingtonian.
He Purposely Misinterpreted the
White Mans Words and Made
Him Do All the Rowing
Later On He Reared.

taThe juvenile Afro-American mind
has pretty nearly as many kinks as the
wool on the Afro-Ame rican head" re
marked man just back from his vaca-
ton to Washington Star reporter.
Eve been spending three weeks down
near Wakefield, VT, loafng, fishing
~ connected with the early days of
George Washington. 1 put in most of
my afternoons fishing for rock perch,
taylors and other lower Potomac in
habitants. The fishing was easy
just yanked the old fat-bott omed skiff
out to point in the river that looked
good for fishing, threw my shrimp
-baited hook overheard and hauled 'em
in pretty fast. No work at all connect
ed with fishing down there, except the
rowing. The first couple of days row
ing blistered my hands pretty badly.
and | didn't feel very much like tack
ling the oars on the second day. Yeti
wanted to fish all the same. So j start
ed for the river with the idea that
might be able to pick up some darls
whom could engage to pull my skif.
''The only individual Of color that
met on my way to the river was an ex
tremely diminutiVe and very black boy
not much bigger than. a pickaninns
who was throwing rocks at a vacated
birds nest in a roadside tree.
Want to go fishing, son?' I said tc
the boy.
"'Yessuh,' he replied, without an,
hesitation.
"sCome along, then said /, and he
trudged along with me to the rivers
brink.
81 didn't think to ask him until we'd
reached the skif whether he could row
or not.
"sCan you row, boy'?' asked him, as
he followed me into the boat.
'sHe looked at me in a puzzled kind Of
way, and it was about half minute
before he replied.
No, subj he said then.
81 was disappointed, of course, but ]
after his anticipations' Of fishing trip
had been aroused, and concluded that
he'd keep me from getting lonesome
out on the water, anyway.
$50 picked up the oars myself,
pulled out to the point near some fish
ermen's stakes, where had fished the
day before, and started in to fish. They
didn't appear to bite very well that day,
though, and / roWed to another spot.
Not much luck in that place, either
you've got to get the tide just right
down there on the lower Potomac or
you can't entice fish with chocolate
creams-and SO I yanked the clumsy,
old fat-bottomed skiff to still another
spot. Ny blisteSed hands were pretty
sore by this time, but was bound and
determined to get some fish one way or
another, and so kept right on rowing
from spot to spot for the greater part
of the afternoon.
FINALLY, when my arms ached pref
ty badly and my palms felt as if they
had had holes burnt in them with sui
phuric acid, made a spot where the
fish just fell over themselves in their
efforts to grab my hook first. I cor
rallied dozens of fine, nifty rock fish.
When the sun started to go down I
said to the black boy, who was success
fully fishing himself up at the bow of
the skiff: One more and then enough
for the day.
ST caught the sone more got him off
my hook, pulled up the piece of scrap
iron that served for an anchor, and was
about to take the oar seat to pull for
the shore when felt the skiff moving.
I looked around, and there was that
diminutive black boy seated in the oar
seat pulling the boat like veteran
and I had been increasing the size of
those hand blisters by rowing all the
afternoon.
's.Look here, boy said sternly, to
the little darby, I thought you told
me before we started out that You
couldn't row?'
He looked at me with vast amuse-
ment.
''.No, sub, All didn't mean that, suh,'
he said. 'Ah thought yo' all meant
could All roah-roah lax uh lion!'''