Mash foot comme ça!" He crushed one of the egg-shells in his brown fist.
"I see," said the doctor. "Gangrene—and amputation. That is how he acquired his wooden leg. What happened then?"
"One night w'ile he's in l'hôpital he's brothe' come to him an' tell him"
"You mean another brother?" interrupted the doctor.
Etienne folded the omelette dexterously and transferred it to a platter. He poured out a cup of coffee and set platter and cup before the doctor before he spoke.
"Non. Same brothe'. Brothe' tell him if he's not stop drinking so much w'isky he's going be sorry. Going be sorry long's he's live—an' lots longe'."
"Wait a minute!" exclaimed the doctor, pausing in the act of putting his fork into the savory omelette. "You're getting all mixed up. First you say his brother was drowned, and then you say his brother came to him while he was in the hospital. I don’t understand what you mean."
"Maybe you un'e'stan' mo' bette' w'en I'm finish'," Etienne returned. "W'en Leblanc get out of l'hôpital, wit' he's wooden leg, de few comp'ny is not want him to wo'k fo' dem some mo'. But he's tell 'em he's going get lawye'—bigges' lawye' in Nyawlins—an' sue 'em fo' big dommage fo' loses leg in accident. Den ferie comp'ny is say he can go back to wo'k if he's not sue 'em.
"He's not drink much fo' one-two week afte' he's go back to wo'k. Den one day he's got he's bottle again, an' a big crowd of people is going ove' rive' to ball-game. Mus' be dey is hund'ed men an' women on ferie-boat. Leblanc is drink too much, an' not watch he's wate'-gage. Steam-gage go all way round. Den Leblanc is tu'n mo' wate' into boile'—an' she's blow up. Ca-bam! People dat's not kill' is drown'. Eve'y one. Leblanc too."
"Another kind of drunken driver," commented Doctor Dumont, turning from Etienne and attacking the omelette with vast appetite. "It was a good story, all right, but you got mixed up about the brother who was drowned coming to the hospital. The way you told it, it seemed as if he came to the hospital after he was drowned."
"He did come afte' he's drown'."
The doctor swallowed a huge draft of the black Louisiana coffee, wiped his mouth, and set down the cup with an air of satisfaction. Then he said reproachfully:
"I'm surprized at you, Etienne: telling me a story like that. What did I ever do to deserve it?"
"Do?" echoed the old Cajun, shrilly. "W'at you do? You tell me you cross de rive' tonight on box-fact'ry ferie, between Walnut an' Napoleon—di'n't you? It's twenty-fi' yea's, dis ve'y mont', dat Enginee' Leblanc is blow up boat wit' hund'ed people on him—an' dey ain' been no steam-ferie on dat pa't of de rive' since!"
