About This Book
Thusia Fragg from the deck of the Mary Ksteamboat at the moment when a fledgling minister he ended his long voyage down the Ohio and up the Mississippi and was ready to step on Riverbank soil for the first time. From mid-river, as the steamer approached, the town had seemed but a fringe of buildings at the foot of densely foliaged hills with here and there a house showing through the green and with one or two church spires rising above the trees. Then the warehouse shut off the view while the Mary Kmade an unsensational landing, bumping against the projecting piles, bells jingling in her interior, paddle wheels noisily reversing and revolving again and the mate swearing at the top of his voice. As the bow of the steamer pushed beyond the warehouse, the sordidly ugly riverfront of the town came into view again mud, sand, weather-beaten frame buildings while on the sandy levee at the side of the warehouse lounged the twenty or thirty male citizens in shirt sleeves who had come down to see the arrival of the steamer. From the saloon deck they watched the steamer push her nose beyond the blank red wall of the warehouse.
(Typographical errors above are due to OCR software and don't occur in the book.)
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