228 HUMBLE FARE. [CHAP. XXXIII. 



as waiter till we had finished our repast, had not his 

 wife, a native-born American from the State of In 

 diana, insisted on his sitting down to table. They 

 were so poor, that they had no servants, not even a 

 negro boy or girl, and two children to look after. 

 The fare was of the humblest kind, bread of Indian 

 corn, bacon, and thick coffee. Some of the indis 

 pensable articles of the breakfast table equipage 

 had been purchased, as we afterwards discovered, 

 expressly for our use that morning. The lodger, 

 &quot; Uncle John,&quot; was an old bachelor in easy circum 

 stances, fond of fishing, who had come here to in 

 dulge in that sport. He was an old pilot, who had 

 visited half the ports in the Mediterranean, as well 

 as Great Britain, and was quite a character. He 

 could tell many a good story of his adventures, and, 

 like many natives of Louisiana, could bear to be con 

 tradicted on any point rather than hear the healthi 

 ness of New Orleans called in question. His man 

 ners, and those of our host and hostess towards each 

 other and to us, were very polite, and never ap 

 proached undue familiarity. Uncle John assured 

 me that the Mississippi is now flowing where 

 New Madrid stood in 1811, and that the old grave 

 yard has travelled over from the State of Missouri 

 into Kentucky. How this had happened, it was 

 easy for me to divine when I went out after break 

 fast to look at the place by daylight. 



The river bank is now about twenty-five feet high, 

 and would be forty-five feet at the lowest water 

 level. It is giving way rapidly, three houses having 

 fallen in during the last week, and some proprietors 



