extending upwards from the foundations. Stranded
and discarded scows lay all about; plank sidewalks
on stilts four feet high were still standing; the
board sidewalks on the ground level were loose and
ruinous,—a couple of men trotting along
them could make a blind man think a cavalry charge
was coming; everywhere the mud was black and deep,
and in many places malarious pools of stagnant water
were standing. A Mississippi inundation is the
next most wasting and desolating infliction to a fire.
We had an enjoyable time here, on this sunny Sunday:
two full hours’ liberty ashore while the boat
discharged freight. In the back streets but few
white people were visible, but there were plenty of
colored folk—mainly women and girls; and
almost without exception upholstered in bright new
clothes of swell and elaborate style and cut—a
glaring and hilarious contrast to the mournful mud
and the pensive puddles.
Helena is the second town in Arkansas, in point of
population—which is placed at five thousand.
The country about it is exceptionally productive.
Helena has a good cotton trade; handles from forty
to sixty thousand bales annually; she has a large
lumber and grain commerce; has a foundry, oil mills,
machine shops and wagon factories—in brief
has $1,000,000 invested in manufacturing industries.
She has two railways, and is the commercial center
of a broad and prosperous region. Her gross receipts
of money, annually, from all sources, are placed by
the New Orleans ‘Times-Democrat’ at $4,000,000.
Chapter 31 A Thumb-print and What Came of It
We were approaching Napoleon, Arkansas.
So I began to think about my errand there.
Time, noonday; and bright and sunny. This was
bad—not best, anyway; for mine was not
(preferably) a noonday kind of errand. The more
I thought, the more that fact pushed itself upon me—now
in one form, now in another. Finally, it took
the form of a distinct question: is it good common
sense to do the errand in daytime, when, by a little
sacrifice of comfort and inclination, you can have
night for it, and no inquisitive eyes around.
This settled it. Plain question and plain answer
make the shortest road out of most perplexities.
I got my friends into my stateroom, and said I was
sorry to create annoyance and disappointment, but
that upon reflection it really seemed best that we
put our luggage ashore and stop over at Napoleon.
Their disapproval was prompt and loud; their language
mutinous. Their main argument was one which has
always been the first to come to the surface, in such
cases, since the beginning of time: ’But
you decided and agreed to stick to this boat,
etc.; as if, having determined to do an unwise
thing, one is thereby bound to go ahead and make two
unwise things of it, by carrying out that determination.
I tried various mollifying tactics upon them, with
reasonably good success: under which encouragement,
I increased my efforts; and, to show them that I had
not created this annoying errand, and was in no way
to blame for it, I presently drifted into its history—substantially
as follows:
Copyrights
Life on the Mississippi from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.