Second, to descend to a more popular form of art, but one from which the revenue is far more certain, Memphis has, in W.C. Handy, a negro ragtime composer whose dance tunes are widely known. Among his compositions may be mentioned the "Memphis Blues," the "St. Louis Blues," "Mr. Crump," and "Joe Turner." "Mr. Crump" is named in honor of a former mayor of Memphis who was ousted for refusing to enforce the prohibition law; "Joe Turner" is the name of a negro pianist who plays for Memphis to dance--as Handy also does. Most of Handy's tunes are negro "rags" in fox-trot time, and they are so effective that Memphis dances them generally in preference to the one step. My third celebrity is of a more astounding type. While in Memphis I called aboard the river steamer _Grand_, and had a talk with Mrs. Nettie Johnson, who is captain of that craft. Some one told me that Mrs. Johnson was the only woman steamboat captain in the world, but she informed me that at Helena, Arkansas, there lives another Mrs. Johnson--no relative of hers--who follows the same calling. The steamer _Grand_ is almost entirely a Johnson family affair. Mrs. Johnson is captain; her husband, I.S. Johnson is pilot (though Mrs. Johnson has, in addition to her master's license, a pilot's license, and often takes the wheel); her elder son, Emery, is clerk; Emery's wife is assistant clerk, while Arthur, the captain's younger son, is engineer. Russell Johnson, Mrs. Johnson's grandson, is the only member of the family I saw aboard the boat who does not take part in running it. Russell was five years old when I met him, but that was nearly a year ago, and by now he is probably chief steward, boatswain, or ship's carpenter. The regular route of the _Grand_ is from Memphis to Mhoon's Landing, on the Arkansas River, a round trip of 120 miles, with thirty landings. I asked Mrs. Johnson if she had ever been shipwrecked. Indeed she had! Her former ship, the _Nettie Johnson_, struck thin ice one night in the Arkansas River and went down. "What did you do?" I asked. "I reached after an iron ring," she replied, "and clumb on up into the rigging. She went down about four-thirty A.M. and we stayed on her till daylight; then we all swum ashore. I tell you it was cold! There was icicles on my dress; my son Emery put his arms around me to keep me warm, and his clothes froze onto mine." "How long a swim was it to shore?" I asked. "Oh," put in her husband, "it didn't amount to nothing. She was only swimming about two minutes." This statement, however, was repudiated by the captain. "Two minutes, my foot!" she flung back at her spouse. "It was more than that, all right!" Mrs. Johnson has done flood rescue work for the Government, with the _Grand_. In the spring previous to our visit she rescued sixty families from one plantation, besides towing barge-loads of provisions to various points on the Mississippi and Arkansas rivers.