We were sent to see Captain Parisot at his house, where he received us kindly, entertained us for an hour or more with reminiscences, and showed us a most interesting collection of souvenirs of the river, including photographs of famous boats, famous deck loads of cotton, and famous characters: among the latter the celebrated rivals, Captain John W. Cannon of the _Robert E. Lee_ and Captain Thomas P. Leathers of the _Natchez_. Captain Parisot knew both these men well, and was himself aboard the _Lee_ at the time of her famous race with the _Natchez_ from New Orleans to St. Louis. "We left New Orleans 31/2 minutes ahead of the _Natchez_," said Captain Parisot, "made the run to Vicksburg in 24 hours and 28 minutes, beat her to Cairo by 1 hour and 12 minutes, and to St. Louis by more than 3 hours." Captain Parisot's father was a soldier under Napoleon I, and moved to Warren County, Mississippi, after having been wounded at Moscow. He built, at the foot of Main Street, Vicksburg, the first brick house that city had. "There was a law in France," said the captain, "that any citizen absent from the country for thirty-five years lost all claim to property. My father's people were pretty well off, so in '42 he started back, but he was taken ill and died in New Orleans." Captain Parisot was born in 1828, and in 1847 began "learning the river." In 1854 he became part owner of a boat, and three years later purchased one of his own. "I bought her in Cincinnati," he said. Then, reflectively, he added: "There was a good deal of drinking in those days. When I brought her down on her first trip I had 183 tons of freight, and 500 barrels of whisky, from Cincinnati, for one little country store--Barksdale & McFarland's, at Yazoo City." "There was a good deal of gambling, too, wasn't there?" one of us suggested. "There was indeed," smiled the old captain. "Every steamboat was a gambling house, and there used to be big games before the war." "How big?" "Well," he returned, "as Captain Leathers once put it, it used to be 'nigger ante and plantation limit.' And that's no joke about playing for niggers either. Those old planters would play for anything. I've known people to get on a boat at Yazoo City to come to Vicksburg, and get in a game, and never get off at Vicksburg at all--just go back to Yazoo; yes, and come down again, to keep the game going. "There was a saloon called the Exchange near our house in Yazoo, and I remember once my father got into a game, there, with a gambler named Spence Thrift. That was before the war. Thrift was a terrible stiff bluffer. When he got ready to clean up, he'd shove up his whole pile. Well, he did that to my father. Thrift's pile was twenty-two hundred dollars, and all my father had in front of him was eight hundred. But he owned a young negro named Calvin, so he called Calvin, and told him: 'Here, boy! Jump up on the table.' That equalled the gambler's pile; and it finished him--he threw down his hand, beaten.