Strange True Stories of Louisiana

Chapter 4 THE TWO SISTERS.

Word Count: 720 | Released on: 01/12/2017

dren that I write this journey. I shall be well satisfied if I ca

nd announced that he counted on leaving us again in four or five days to go to Attakapas. He had long been speaking of going there. Papa and mamma were German, and papa loved to travel. When he first came to Louisiana it was with no expectation of

e always-always. She was the daughter next older than I. She barely missed being a boy. She was eighteen years of age, went hunting with our father, was skillful with a gun, and swam like a fish. Papa called her "my son." You must understand the two boys were respectively but two years and three months old, and papa, who greatly desired a son

with you, am

my father; "and Fra

y sister-blonde, where Suzanne was dark; timid, even cowardly, while she had the hardihood and courage of a young lioness

. I have a foolish terror of Indians, and a more reasonable one for man-eaters. But papa and Suzanne mocked at

o nothing by themselves, but must have a domestic to dress and undress them. Especially in traveling, where one had to take clothes out of trunks and put them back again, assistance became an absolute necessity. Think, then, of our

I beg of you," cried Suzanne,

e. "If you will listen in silence, I wil

he trip he had made to New Orleans; how he had there found means to put into ex

Chapter End

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Strange True Stories of Louisiana

George Washington Cable Literature

“True stories are not often good art. The relations and experiences of real men and women rarely fall in such symmetrical order as to make an artistic whole. Until they have had such treatment as we give stone in the quarry or gems in the rough they seldom group themselves with that harmony of values and brilliant unity of interest that result when art comes in—not so much to transcend nature as to make nature transcend herself. Yet I have learned to believe that good stories happen oftener than once I thought they did. Within the last few years there have dropped into my hands by one accident or another a number of these natural crystals, whose charms, never the same in any two, are in each and all enough at least to warn off all tampering of the fictionist. Happily, moreover, without being necessary one to another, they yet have a coherent sequence, and follow one another like the days of a week. They are mine only by right of discovery. From various necessities of the case I am sometimes the story-teller, and sometimes, in the reader's interest, have to abridge; but I add no fact and trim naught of value away. Here are no unconfessed "restorations," not one. In time, place, circumstance, in every essential feature, I give them as I got them—strange stories that truly happened, all partly, some wholly, in Louisiana.”