As
the first laborer passed this, one--nay, several of us pounced
upon him, for all plans we had laid to line up and take turns were
thus quickly overthrown and wild competition soon reigned. From
then on each dived in to snatch his prey and, dragging him to the
nearest free space, began in some language or other: "Where d'ye
live?"
That was the overwhelming problem,--in what language to address
each victim. Barter, speaking only his nasal New Jersey, took to
picking out negroes, and even then often turned away in disgust
when he landed a Martinique or a Haytian. West Indian "English"
alternated with a black patois that smelt at times faintly of
French, muscular, bullet-headed negroes appeared slowly and
laboriously counting their money in their hats, eagle-nosed
Spaniards under the boina of the Pyrenees, Spaniards from Castile
speaking like a gatling-gun in action, now and again even a
snappy-eyed Andalusian with his s-less slurred speech, slow,
laborious Gallegos, Italians and Portuguese in numbers, Colombians
of nondescript color, a Slovak who spoke some German, a man from
Palestine with a mixture of French and Arabic noises I could guess
at, and scattered here and there among the others a Turk who
jabbered the lingua franca of Mediterranean ports. I "got" all who
fell into my hands.
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