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Updated: May 2, 2025
I aint never known o' but two askin' to be 'put in de pocket. Both of 'em was sol'. "Dey had jails in dem days, but dey was built for white folks. No cullud person was ever put in one of 'em 'til after de war. Us didn' know nothin' 'bout dem things. "Course, Old Mis' knowed 'bout 'em, 'cause she knowed ever'thing. I recollec' she tol' me one day dat she had learnin' in five diffe'ent languages.
"An' out there's the purtiest spot west o' the Rockies, My valley is ever'thing a man er a womern can ask or want. And me, I'm a permanent man in these yere parts. It's me, Jim Bridger, that fust diskivered the Great Salt Lake. It's me, Jim Bridger, fust went through Colter's Hell up in the Yellowstone. Ain't a foot o' the Rockies I don't know. I eena-most built the Rocky Mountains, me."
Well, dey come. Dey burn up seventy houses an' all de stores. Dey tore up de railroad tracks an' toted off ever'thing dey couldn' eat. I don' un'erstan' nothin' 'bout how come dey act lak dat. Us aint done nothin' to 'em. "Well things kep' gittin' worse an' worse. After de Surrender Niggers got mighty biggity. Mos' of 'em was glad jus' to feel free. Dey didn' have no better sense.
"Well, if he went to Araby, or was born there, he'd be an Arabian Knight, wouldn't he? The lad's gran'ther were prob'ly a furriner, an' yours an' mine were, too, Trot, if you go back far enough; for Ameriky wasn't diskivered in them days." "There!" said Trot triumphantly. "Didn't I tell you, Button-Bright, that Cap'n Bill knows ever'thing?"
Lovey Mary's jes took you an' the house an' ever'thing in hand, an' in four weeks got you all to livin' like white folks. I ain't claimin' she ain't sharp-tongued; I 'low she's sassed 'bout ever'body in the Patch but me by now. But she's good, an' she's smart, an' some of her sharp corners'll git pecked off afore her hair grows much longer."
'Anyhow, it seems a hard thing to die, I remarked. 'Seems so, he said thoughtfully. 'Jes' like ever'thing else them 'at knows much about it don' have a great deal t' say. Looks t' me like this: I cal'ate a man hes on the everidge ten things his heart is sot on what is the word I want ? 'Treasures? I suggested. 'Thet's it, said he. 'Ev'ry one hes about ten treasures. Some hev more some less.
"None o' us didn' have no learnin' atall. Dat is us didn' have no book learnin'. Twant no teachers or anything lak dat, but us sho' was taught to be Christians. Ever'thing on dat place was a blue stockin' Presbyterian. When Sund'y come us dressed all clean an' nice an' went to church. Us went to de white folks' church an' set in de gal'ry. "Us had a fine preacher. His name was Gober.
"You see, it's this way," explained Ricks as the boys sat behind the smokestack and Sandy became initiated into the mysteries of a wonderful game called "craps." "I didn't have no more 'n you've got. I lived down South, clean off the track of ever'thing. I puts my foot in my hand and went out and seen the world.
I learnt to read and write but I just wouldn't do it. I learnt the other chillun though. I did that. I was into ever'thing. I learnt them that what I could do. Blue Back? Them's the very ones I studied. "In slavery times I had to rise as early as I could. Old master would give me any little thing around the house that I wanted. They said he was too old to go to war.
"One time, jus' when ever'thing was a-goin' fine, a sad thing happened. My young mistis, de one named for her ma, ups an' runs off wid de son o' de Irish ditch digger an' marries 'im. She wouldn' a-done it if dey'd a-let 'r marry de man she wanted. Dey didn' think he was good 'nough for her. So jus' to spite' em, she married de ditch digger's son.
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