Father and Small Fry See Sights of French Quarter

[Page 1] Us on a Bus Father and Small Fry See Sights of French Quarter Father of six children, an Indianapolis Star staffer is traveling by Greyhound bus through 6,000 miles of the Southwest visiting historic at home. Here is his second dispatch. By CHARLES G. GRIFFO. throughout the world as one of the most picturesque areas on the American continent. The tour came after the kids, accompanied by their father, arrived in New Orleans after a 800-odd miles bus trip from Indianapolis through Evansville, Memphis, and Jackson, Miss. The trip down, looking back on the incidents now, seems somewhat uneventful except for 1 two discoveries. 4½-Year, Sense The first was that Gregory, who is at that impish age, discovered that the new Greyhound busses have washrooms.

There surely must be a Geiger-counter apparatus in the head of a child Greg's age that clicks a resounding note when he gets within 50 feet of such a sanitary necessity. Because Gregory's counter really flipped on t this leg of the trip. "I gotta go to the bathroom,' he said, even before the bus was out of the Indianapolis city limits. "I gotta go to the bathroom,' NEW ORLEANS - New Orleans boosters who call their historic city the nation's most interesting community might well feel put : out to know that at least four children think their world famous fish market in the French Quarter "Puh . . . Stinks." This was the vivid reaction, on nose, of Martha, 14, Chuck, 9, Mary Elizabeth, 6, and Gregory, 4½- It was made during 89-degree heat.

on a walking tour of the Vieux Carre, which translated means the "Old Square" and is known | a mystery novel, the distress cry would come. I would have given even-money each time the washroom trip was made that somehow Gregory would get locked in the closetsize affair which is equipped with a signal button to be pressed in case of such an incident. The trouble is that the button "if locked in, push on a ferry boat would be the best sights for children in the South's famous city, we tried all three. It was while walking up Bourbon Street that Chuck, who has never been a terrific hand in the reading de p a rtment, intently eyed a poster and wondered out loud: "What do they mean, the naughtiest girl in town." The tour hastily was turned towards Jackson Square, beautiful St.

Louis Cathedral, the museum, and the old French Market, the latter where the encounter with the fishing industry occurred. We then went across the turbulent Mississippi River on the steam-powered ferry boat, a crossing which meant that father had to keep one eye on the water, and the other on Gregory, who wanted to try his climbing technique on a rail. Invitation to Pilot House On the return trip, the boat's pilot, Harold Norcross, discovered us on board and invited the kids to the pilot house. Martha read a comic book as we chugged back and forth across the river, Norcross explaining the technique of guiding a huge boat loaded with people and automobiles from one mooring to another against treacherous cross currents.

It was only when only Daddy was certain the pilot wheel would be seen grabbed from the veteran river man's hand and for the first time in history a 4½- year-old would sink a boat, that he managed to get them finally off the vessel to continue a walking tour of the famous French Quarter. This was Martha's\