We can get started on a hot steamy afternoon near the edge of the Mississippi. The captain called for his pipe. It was nowhere to be found. Many things can disturb one of The Rivers major captains of the time and it’s fair that they would. Not havin’ your pipe? I’m feared to say that not havin’ your pipe at five on a steamy afternoon would be most unnerving. Why there’s not a crewman on the Mississippi would want to be on the angry end of that circumstance.

In the corner was a boat’s boy, Tom. Young Tom was but a twig of a person who would best not be caught in a strong wind. He was 11 years old but claimed to be 19. He stood proud as young man could stand. At a bit below four feet high and maybe 70 pounds or so after climbin’ out The River, well, others just be a decidin’ to let him be 19 since it was a whole lot easier than fighting with his eye-brow raisin’ and jaw-tightenin’ temper! This lil’ Mississippi misfit could shrill like a hog on the way to the picnic. Best just to figure if he’s a sayin’ he’s 19, then that’s that. Never could matter much. He had no family to claim him and seems like The River was the only home he ever knew. Oh, ya and he knew The River.

Well, they never did find the captain’s pipe. As the day gave in to the night, young Tom found himself a’dreamin’ about a time when his River would be wrapped with roads and a whole different kind of river life. Kinda made him feel sad, but when he stirred a bit and saw the sun falling behind a cloud he just smiled inside and tucked the pipe a little one way or the other so as to not be sittin’ on it uncomfortable-like.