Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
coming to blows, an old fellow with a battered old sombrero got up and having spat some of
the tobacco juice out, said: 'Anyway, you ——cayn't speak no good English yerselves, you
—— Northeners think you know all about everything, but you just don't know nothing; you
—— is just one heap of bull,' and pushing him by the shoulder he added with a threatening
look, 'and now you'd better quit,' and the fellow did!
In the South I occasionally found old mule barns which had survived out of the many that
existed and which have been turned into garages and filling stations. These barns seem to be
favourite meeting places for loafers and gossipers, who sit in groups discussing the bad times,
tosaynothingofeveryman,womanandmuleintheneighbourhood,nowandagainemphasis-
ing a particularly weighty statement byspitting out tobacco juice. Insome corner,well hidden
from public view one may also see some rolling the dice on a little mat, playing the classical
game of 'craps'; dimes and quarters changing hands with astonishing rapidity. To be a good
'craps' player a man has to master a special vocabulary and must be a bit of a contortionist,
forsome magic wordsandmovements are said toattract luck. Negroes are particularly pictur-
esque and amusing to watch, and I should not be surprised if the Charleston originated during
a 'craps' game in some southern mule barn.
Whenever a fellow rises after having given somebody a meaning wink, and the pair 'fades
away' around a corner, one could have a safe bet that they are going to have a swig of 'corn'
or some other 'moonshine' - yes, the old mule barns that remain are real havens for local
characters, where troubles are invented and forgotten, and where the most important schemes
of national importance are discussed in heated debate, which is held in language not so much
parliamentary as expressive, whilst the well-fed mules stand there, seeming to listen with the
boredom of an old judge who is hearing his thousandth case of intoxication or public disturb-
ance.
InTexastherearestrangecontrastsofyesterdayandtoday,forIhaveseenfarmersplough-
ing fields with teams of big, heavy mules, preparing to sow the year's cotton, whilst a regular
stream of automobiles sped along the concrete highway, along which the Waco-Fort Worth
electric trains raced, big steel towers holding the high voltage cables in a seemingly endless
line that stretches from horizon to horizon over the plains; the continuous purring and hum-
ming of many motors is sometimes drowned by the droning of an aeroplane overhead, but the
farmer slowly continues along his furrow with an occasional 'giddap!' to urge on the mules.
The main topics among the farmers seemed to be the weather, politics and prohibition and
it struck me that the average American is either a republican or a democrat; the main point, as
far as this average individual is concerned, being that if he belongs to one party he is simply
opposed to the other.
After the State of the horned toad and the blue bonnet, as Texas is often called, we crossed
into Oklahoma, following the same highway north.
A visit to the MacAlester State Prison was of unusual interest to me, especially as I was
told that this particular institution ranks among the most modern and up-to-date in the U.S. I
