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Updated: May 19, 2025
Even though he knew it was his own ignorance that had kept him a prisoner in that storm, Parson Rasba did not fail to realize that his ignorance had been sin, and that his punishment was due to his absorption in the fate of a pretty woman.
Something in the fact that Rasba had come down those strange miles had touched them, had given Drones courage to go back and face the music, and to Buck the desire to return into his old life. "We're going up on the Kate to-morrow morning," Buck explained. "Slip'd better show you how to run the gasolene boat if you don't know how, Parson!"
"Why," he shouted, "this is my shot gu " No more. His light went out on the instant and he felt that he was suspended in mid-air, poised between the abyss and the heavens. Fortune, or rather the Father of Waters, had favoured Parson Elijah Rasba in the accomplishment of his errand.
He objected to being prayed over and the good of his soul inquired into but this Parson Rasba was making the idea interesting. They anchored for the night in the eddy at the head of Needham's Cut-Off Bar, and Prebol was soon asleep, but Rasba sat under the big lamp and read. He could read with continuity now; dread that the dream would vanish no longer afflicted him.
She was glad to escape the Mississippi down this little chute; she was glad to have a phrase to puzzle over instead of the ever-present problem of her own future and her own fate; she was glad that she had drifted in on Mrs. Mame Caope and Jim and Mr. Falteau and Mrs. Dobstan and Parson Rasba, instead of falling among those other kinds of people. Mrs.
He would take her, protect her, and there would be some way out of the predicament in which they both found themselves. But again she reckoned without the river. How could she know that Terabon and he had come down the Mississippi together? But there he was, chauffeuring for the Prophet! She threw the line, Rasba caught it, drew the two boats together and made them fast.
Raunchin's what she needs!" They floated out of the current into the slow reverse eddy, and coming up close to Rasba's fleet, talked back and forth with him till a gleam of light through a window struck him clearly out of the dark. "Hue-e-e!" a shrill woman's voice laughed. "Hit's Rasba, the Riveh Prophet Rasba! Did yo' all git to catch Nelia Crele, Parson?"
"Hello-o, Parson!" she hailed him, "did you see a skiff with a reporter man drop by?" "No, missy!" he shook his head, his heart giving a painful thump "I'm a-landing in, Parson!" she cried. "I want to talk with you!" With that she leaned forward, drove the sweeps deep, and her boat started in like a skiff. It seemed to Parson Rasba that he had never seen a more beautiful picture in all his days.
I bet yo' sing out loud sometimes?" "Hit's so," Rasba admitted. "I sung right smart comin' down the Ohio. Seems like I jest wanted to sing, like birds in the posey time." "Prebol shore should git to a doctor, shot up thataway. He didn't say which lady shot him, Parson?" a woman asked. "No; jes' a lady into an eddy into a lonesome bend." Rasba shook his head.
"My name's Prebol," the man said, "Jest Prebol. I live on Old Mississip'! I live anywhere, down by N'Orleans, Vicksburg everywhere! I'm a grafter, I am " "A grafter?" Rasba repeated the strange word. "Yas, suh, cyards, an' tradin' slum, barberin' mebby, an' mebby some otheh things. I can sell patent medicine to a doctor, I can! I clean cisterns, an' anything." "You gamble?"
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