The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1916-1920, 1919-03-02
A DREAM OF RIBBON CANE.

From ribbon cans $3.50 900 gallons OF
syrup were made in the United States In
1918, according to the hrst estimate Of
this product by the bureau of crop esti-
mates of the United States Department
of Agriculture. one-third OF this was
made in I.ouisiana.--THE Sun.
II duty call or pleasure beckon you
from Bayou Sara to Jackson. La, by
all means take the Lower Road. You
had best go in the saddle. but the trip
can DO made in two wheel cart or in
a blackboard. II Is a precedent condi-
ton that 1t be autumn.
After you leave St Francisville
your route is for the most part a
crooked cash between rocks gaudy as
Joseph's coat-red, yellow, blue. green,
mottlcd. The road-that is, they call
II a road-itself is bright red, descend
ing now and again to the bright gold
sands Of a dry bed Of a stream. Trees
arch the trail, sweet gums blazing
like a forest fire, scarlet sumac, blue
green pines, and here and there pecans
and yellow hickories. for in East
Feliciana parish you may find all the
range between palmetto scrub and the
flora OF the Catskills.
Now and again there is a clearing,
tufted, like as not, with bumblebee
cotton, poor relation OF the Delta va
rieties and Just knee high to a bum
blebee, as the darkies say. The weevils
get II, and. not worth the labor Of
picking. It waves its white rags in the
wind.
But in one of these clearings you
are sure to come upon a cheerier
scene. Delectable odors-the sweet
smell OF wood smoke and something
with II reminiscent at once OF tho
levee in New Orleans and OF winter
breakfasts--will whet your appetite
and your curiosity before your nag
jerks the blackboard into full view.
Here we are! Yves Duoiey Is max
ing syrup. A patient, bony plug with
a rope harness goes round and round,
snorting as he shifts the wood smoke,
stepping over the drive rope with
mechanical accuracy once in each
revolution and swapping now and
again at a leaf. His mission in life
Is dull but worthy. He drudges. sirs,
to make the world sweeter. May you.
with half his legs do half as we'll. He
is turning a mill which is a clothes
and with rolls Of iron instead Of
rubber. Between these rolls Yves Is
feeding ribbon cane stalks. stripped
OF the flowing leaves which give 1t a
name. The watery Juice spurts and
splashes as the cane is squeezed nat;
It's a wasteful method, but some OF
tho Juice actually does get into the
barrel
Hard by Is the kettle. which Is no
kettle at all, but a trough, made Of
black iron. 1t is perhaps six feet long
and two feet broad. Stones bridge II
over the fire. Grids or partitions
reach almost across 1t. one from this
side. the next from the other. so that
the Juice poured into the upper end
winds Its way drunkenly zigzag to
the further end. Meantime 1t has
boiled and boiled, and while it went in
clear as crystal. 1t drips from the other
end a thin trickle OF brown syrup.
Syrup as is syrup! You can't buy
II here. They sell ribbon cane syrup
in cans and bottles, but faint real.
II is made efficiently and scientifically,
and there isn't twlg or lear IN II
to show II was born in the open air.
Even this poor substitute for the
home made kind is almost unpur-
chasable In New York. The real
stun won't keep long-like many OF
LIES sweetest things.
Maple syrup is well enough in It's
way. and honey will do in a pinch. but
never tree grew or bug lived that
could distil the fine, full bodied
smacking goodness that IS ribbon
canes b!rthright.