21

Kings, Baby Dolls, Zulus, and Queens --3
from the Geddes and Moss Undertakers, always accompany him to the Royal Barge at the New Basin Canal and South Carrollton Avenue. Cannons are fired, automobile horns blast, throats grow hoarse acclaiming him. Many a white face laughs upward from the sea of black ones, strayed far from the celebration just coming to life down on Canal Street.
There was suspense this morning. Impatient waiting! At last, about nine o'clock, a tugboat pushed the Royal Barge away from its resting place. Whistles shrieked. The horns and the applause of the admiring throng increased. The King took a swig from a bottle, yelled to one of his assistants, 'Listen, you black bastard, you can help me all you want, but don't mess 'round with my whiskey.' Then he turned and bowed graciously toward the shore.
The other Zulus helped His Majesty greet the crowds.
'Hello, Pete. We is in our glory today.'
'What you say, black gal.'
'Ain't it fine?'
Never have any of the Zulus been highhat. Ed Hill, one of the organization's overlords, said: