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Updated: June 26, 2025
"Jools," said the West-Floridian, laying his great hand tenderly upon the Creole's shoulder, as they stepped out upon the banquette, "do you think you have any shore hopes of heaven?" "Yass!" replied St.-Ange; "I am sure-sure. I thing everybody will go to heaven.
Your jools are in safe keeping, and not all the blagyirds in creation could get at them. I've come to tell you to cheer up a stout heart to a stey brae, as the old folk say. I'm handling this affair as a business proposition, so don't be feared, Mem. If there are enemies seeking you, there's friends on the road too.... Now, you'll have had your dinner, but you'd maybe like a little dessert."
There was a clicking of pulleys as the three appeared upon the bayou's margin, and Baptiste pointed out, in the deep shadow of a great oak, the Isabella, moored among the bulrushes, and just spreading her sails for departure. Moving down to where she lay, the parson and his friend paused on the bank, loath to say farewell. "O Jools!" said the parson, "supposin' Colossus ain't gone home!
Is that yo' yallah boy, Jools! Fetch him along, Colossus. It seems like a special proviDENCE. Jools, do you believe in a special proviDENCE?" Jules said he did.
"Is he as good as you, Jools?" asked Parson Jones, sincerely. Jules was slightly staggered. "You know, Posson Jone', you know, a nigger cannot be good as a w'ite man mais Baptiste is a good nigger." The parson moaned and dropped his chin into his hands. "I was to of left for home to-morrow, sun-up, on the Isabella schooner. Pore Smyrny!" He deeply sighed.
"'I assure ye, mong editor, says th' gin'ral, earnestly, 'that th' governmint will not make ye anny more ridiculous than it makes itsilf, says he. "'Me honor is satisfied, says Jools. 'Do ye'er worst, he says. "At eight o'clock th' minister iv war ar-rived, an' took command. He ordhered up twinty rig'mints iv cav'lry, tin batthries iv artillery, an' two divisions iv fut sojers.
'I wish, said Jools, 'ye'd sind down tin or a dozen good men in uniform an' a few detectives in citizen's clothes, he says. "I've asked some ladies an' gintlemen to a five o'clock rivolution at my house, he says; 'an' I'd like to be sure they'll be no disordher, he says. 'Well, says th' chief, ''twill not be aisy, he says.
Why, that boy's got money, Jools; more money than religion, I reckon. I'm shore he fallen into mighty bad company" they passed beyond earshot. Baptiste and Colossus, instead of going to the tavern kitchen, passed to the next door and entered the dark rear corner of a low grocery, where, the law notwithstanding, liquor was covertly sold to slaves.
"Something like seven guineas, I believe. I could look up the bill, and let you know." "What's dat guineas? Is dat more dan a pound?" "A shilling more. Why these higher mathematics?" Spike resumed his brushing. "What a lot of dude suits youse could git," he observed meditatively, "if youse had dem jools!" He became suddenly animated. He waved the clothes-brush. "Oh, you boss!" he cried.
Ye're afraid iv Rothscheeld, an' th' Impror iv Germany, an' th' Dook d'Orleans, Vik Bonaparte, an' Joe Chamberlain, an' Bill McKinley. Be hivins, I believe ye're even afraid iv Gin'ral Otis! Ye're afraid iv th' newspapers, ye're afraid iv Jools Guerin, ye're afraid iv a pote, even whin he is not ar-rmed with his pothry, an' ye're afraid iv each other. Brace up! be men!
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