Stirling told me of his life during the previous winter in the swamps of White River.  On one occasion, a steamer having lost her anchor near his locality, the captain of the boat offered to reward Stirling liberally if he would recover the lost property; so, while the captain was making his up-river trip, the Ohio boy worked industriously dredging for the cable.  He found it; and under-running the heavy rope, raised it and the anchor.  When the steamer returned to Beteley’s Landing, Stirling delivered the anchor and coil of rope to the captain, who, intending to defraud the young man of the promised reward, ordered the mate to “cast off the lines.”  The gong had signalled the engineer to get under way, but not quick enough to escape the young salvage-owner, who grasped the coil of rope and dragged it ashore, shouting to the captain, “You may keep your anchor, but I will keep your cable as salvage, to which I am entitled for my trouble in saving your property.”

A few days later, Stirling, wishing to know whether he could legally hold his salvage fees, paddled down to Bolivia, a small town in the state of Mississippi, to obtain legal advice in regard to the matter.  The white people referred him to a negro justice of the peace, whom they assured him “had more law-larnin’ than any white man in the diggings, and is the honestest nigger in these parts.”  Being ushered into the presence of a dignified negro, the cutter of fishing-poles informed the “justice” that he desired legal advice in a case of salvage.

“Dat’s rite, dat’s berry good, sah,” said the negro; “now you jes’ set rite down he’ar, and macadimize de case to me.  I gibs ebery man justice—­no turnin’ to de rite or de leff hand.”

Stirling stated the facts, the colored justice puckering up his shiny brow, and his whole countenance expressing perplexity.  “I want to know,” said the possessor of the cable, “whether I can legally hold on to the coil of rope; use it or sell it for my own benefit, without being sued by the captain, who broke his agreement with me.”

The colored man attempted to consult a volume containing a digest of laws; but being an indifferent reader, he handed it to Stirling, saying, “Now you, sah, jes look froo de book and find de larnin’ on de case.”  Having carefully consulted the book, Stirling declared he found nothing that covered the salvage question in regard to cables and anchors.  “Nuffin at all? nuffin at all?” asked the justice, seriously.

“Now let me rest de case a moment fur perspection.”  As he pondered on a case which could not be decided by precedent, an idea seemed to lighten his sable features, for he straightened himself up and exclaimed, “Den I will gib you an opinion.  Dis court will apply de common law ob de state ob Mississippi; and dis is it:  ’What you hab, dat you keep!’ Dis is de teachings ob de bar, de bench, and de code.”

Having received this august opinion, Stirling paddled back in his dug-out canoe to the swamps of Arkansas, much amused, if not impressed, with the negro’s simple method of successfully disposing of a case, so unlike the usual procrastinating customs which fetter the courts presided over by learned white men.