the river light had fallen down and the lamplighter was hanging the lamp on a tree. When he came back to his boat, he called, to the girls.
“You girls from the shantyboat over there?”
“Yes, we are,” said Milly.
“Are you in trouble?” the man asked. “Can I tow you anywhere?”
“We’re O. K. now. You are a day late.” Milly told him about getting stuck on the sand bar and he laughed.
“Where you folks goin’?” asked the lamplighter.
“Oh, just down river,” said Milly. “We stop wherever Daddy takes a notion to stop.”
“Real river people, eh?” asked the man.
“Sure!” said Milly. “My sister here was born in the middle of the Mississippi River.”
“Oh Milly!” cried Patsy. “Don’t tell everybody that.”
The man laughed.
“Ever since the days of the flatboats, there have been all kinds of people goin’ down river, huntin’ adventure,” said the lamplighter. “Nowadays some of them get more than they bargained for. Most every day I meet up with them and try to help ’em if I can. They come sailin’ down in any old kind of craft—in a rubber canoe or a million dollar yacht or a big shantyboat outfit like yours. You’re lucky if your Daddy knows what he’s doin’.”
“He’s a real river man,” said Milly with dignity.
“He’s lived on the river all his life,” added Patsy.
“O. K. then,” said the lamplighter, waving his hand as he started off. “Have a good trip.”
When the girls got back to the houseboat, they told Mama and Daddy about the lamplighter.
“That couldn’t have been Seth Barker, could it?” asked Mama.
“No,” said Daddy. “He’s not as far north as this. His run is down along Arkansas.”
“Wonder if we’ll see Seth and Edie this trip,” said Mama.
“I doubt it,” said Daddy. “They never stay in one place very long.”
“They’re as bad as you, Abe,” said Mama.
“Well,” said Daddy, laughing. “The river keeps moving, why shouldn’t I?”
Patsy studied the river map each day. Each new page was tacked to the wall and showed a new stretch of the river. All lights and buoys were clearly marked.
“If I could only teach Daddy to read…” said Patsy.
“What’s the good of a map?” asked Daddy. “The channel has changed a dozen times since it’s been printed.”
“Well, it’s fun to look at, anyhow,” said Patsy.
What’s the next town we’re coming to?” asked Bunny. Town meant candy to Bunny, so she could not get there too soon.
“Hickman, Kentucky,” said Patsy. “I’ll watch all the lights and tell you when we are getting near. 939—that’s Williams light, and 937.3 is Samuel light. Hickman is right by Island No. 6.”
The day wore slowly on. There were long stretches of revetments first on the Missouri, then on the Kentucky side. Revetments were banks paved with asphalt to prevent erosion, where the current raced swiftly by. They made progress difficult, because there was always danger that the houseboat might be smashed against them.
Sometime later, Patsy looked up from the mail-order catalogue and saw a light. “927.5—that’s Henderson light. Why, we never stopped at Hickman at all! We’re past it!”
“We’re past Hickman?” cried Milly in dismay. She slumped in a chair and began to grumble. “I wanted to go to the post office for my package.”
“It’s too late now,” said Mama. “Coming down river it’s hard to get in and out of Hickman Bend, but we should have seen the town. It’s a pretty place, high up on a hill, and there’s a ferry, too. Looks like Daddy’s aimin’ to make New Madrid tonight.”
“Why, that’s way over on the next page,” said Patsy, looking at the map book. “We’ll go by a big island first, No. 8. That’s still in Kentucky, but pretty soon we’ll get to Tennessee.” She turned the page.
Below Island No. 8, there were great sand bars for miles along the river and stretching inland, dotted with snags and fallen trees from previous
“You girls from the shantyboat over there?”
“Yes, we are,” said Milly.
“Are you in trouble?” the man asked. “Can I tow you anywhere?”
“We’re O. K. now. You are a day late.” Milly told him about getting stuck on the sand bar and he laughed.
“Where you folks goin’?” asked the lamplighter.
“Oh, just down river,” said Milly. “We stop wherever Daddy takes a notion to stop.”
“Real river people, eh?” asked the man.
“Sure!” said Milly. “My sister here was born in the middle of the Mississippi River.”
“Oh Milly!” cried Patsy. “Don’t tell everybody that.”
The man laughed.
“Ever since the days of the flatboats, there have been all kinds of people goin’ down river, huntin’ adventure,” said the lamplighter. “Nowadays some of them get more than they bargained for. Most every day I meet up with them and try to help ’em if I can. They come sailin’ down in any old kind of craft—in a rubber canoe or a million dollar yacht or a big shantyboat outfit like yours. You’re lucky if your Daddy knows what he’s doin’.”
“He’s a real river man,” said Milly with dignity.
“He’s lived on the river all his life,” added Patsy.
“O. K. then,” said the lamplighter, waving his hand as he started off. “Have a good trip.”
When the girls got back to the houseboat, they told Mama and Daddy about the lamplighter.
“That couldn’t have been Seth Barker, could it?” asked Mama.
“No,” said Daddy. “He’s not as far north as this. His run is down along Arkansas.”
“Wonder if we’ll see Seth and Edie this trip,” said Mama.
“I doubt it,” said Daddy. “They never stay in one place very long.”
“They’re as bad as you, Abe,” said Mama.
“Well,” said Daddy, laughing. “The river keeps moving, why shouldn’t I?”
Patsy studied the river map each day. Each new page was tacked to the wall and showed a new stretch of the river. All lights and buoys were clearly marked.
“If I could only teach Daddy to read…” said Patsy.
“What’s the good of a map?” asked Daddy. “The channel has changed a dozen times since it’s been printed.”
“Well, it’s fun to look at, anyhow,” said Patsy.
What’s the next town we’re coming to?” asked Bunny. Town meant candy to Bunny, so she could not get there too soon.
“Hickman, Kentucky,” said Patsy. “I’ll watch all the lights and tell you when we are getting near. 939—that’s Williams light, and 937.3 is Samuel light. Hickman is right by Island No. 6.”
The day wore slowly on. There were long stretches of revetments first on the Missouri, then on the Kentucky side. Revetments were banks paved with asphalt to prevent erosion, where the current raced swiftly by. They made progress difficult, because there was always danger that the houseboat might be smashed against them.
Sometime later, Patsy looked up from the mail-order catalogue and saw a light. “927.5—that’s Henderson light. Why, we never stopped at Hickman at all! We’re past it!”
“We’re past Hickman?” cried Milly in dismay. She slumped in a chair and began to grumble. “I wanted to go to the post office for my package.”
“It’s too late now,” said Mama. “Coming down river it’s hard to get in and out of Hickman Bend, but we should have seen the town. It’s a pretty place, high up on a hill, and there’s a ferry, too. Looks like Daddy’s aimin’ to make New Madrid tonight.”
“Why, that’s way over on the next page,” said Patsy, looking at the map book. “We’ll go by a big island first, No. 8. That’s still in Kentucky, but pretty soon we’ll get to Tennessee.” She turned the page.
Below Island No. 8, there were great sand bars for miles along the river and stretching inland, dotted with snags and fallen trees from previous
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