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Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 19: You should have seen one of those sports [...] walking along with a very mosey walk they had adopted from the river, called shooting the agate. When you shoot the agate, your hands is at your sides with your index finger stuck out and you kind of struts with it. (con. 1920s) Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 180: Gentlemen who [...] wore sharp clothes and snap brim hats, bulged at hip and armpit, and drank only ‘the amber’. (con. 1920) Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 166: I guess what worried them was that my place was black and tan – for coloured and white alike. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 100: This black and tan wedding took place in the streets of Storyville. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 81: He’s black and he’s got bad hair. (con. 1900s) Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 61: Also a lot of bands that we used to call ‘spasm bands’, played any jobs they could get in the streets. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 219: Jazz became a big business in the early thirties, and Jelly Roll, who had been a big wheel in 1923, was a small-time operator in 1933. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 19: They’d press a button in their pocket and light up the little bitty bulb. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 47: And right there was where I got my new name – Wining Boy [...] footnote: Wining is the term Jelly preferred to Winding, [...] Winding Boy is a bit on the vulgar side. Let’s see – how could I put it – means a fellow that makes good jazz with the women. [Ibid.] 105: All them girls would holler, ‘Listen at Winding Boy!’. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 25: I was personally sent to Chinatown many times with a sealed note and a small amount of money and would bring back several cards of hop. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 231: Mister Jelly Roll never bothered his head with these hep-cats, until his bank account at last convinced him that ‘swing’ might not be so bad as he knew it was. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 48: Pick it up and shake it like Stavin Chain, / I’m a wining boy, don’t deny my doggone name. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 23: There were women standing in their cribs with their chippies on [...] a chippie is a dress that women wore, knee length and very easy to disrobe. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 226: It’s those people’s racket, it’s their line [...] They’ll send you to the cleaners. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 31: She threw back her head and laughed a liquid, joy-swollen laugh that swept Colas and myself – a couple of inhibited crackers – along with it. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 144: [footnote] I met Jelly in Tulsa, Oklahoma in 1912 [...] I told him to cut out the funny crap and stick to the piano crap and he’d do all right. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 60: He died in the crazy house. (con. 1910s) Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 145: I finally asked him who was he? He said he was Sweet Papa Cream Puff, right out of the bakery shop. That seemed to produce a great big laugh. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 50: Creep joints where they’d put the feelers on a guy’s clothes. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 49: Then you could observe the fancy Dans, dressed fit to kill. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 109: A deadhead, an empty mail car. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 143: [footnote] First time I saw Jelly was in 1911 [...] He was, well, he was what you might call pimping at the time, had that diamond in his tooth and a couple of dogs (prostitutes) along. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 115: So I told the boys, ‘All right, get down on this card.’ ‘Getting down’ means to put some money up. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 140: One of the dealers [...] pulled out that big .45 of his and the gentleman with the knife faded. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 50: Creep joints where they’d put the feelers on a guy’s clothes. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 45: I suppose he was either a ferry or a steamboat, one or the other, probably you would say a ferry because that’s what you pay a nickel for – and that was the cause of him going to Chicago about 1906. He liked the freedom there. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 37: My father was a fourflusher, who left me with nothing. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 3: I didn’t want to be called Frenchy. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 98: You have to play real hard when you play for Negroes. You have to go some, if you want to avoid their criticism. Mister Jelly Roll (1952) 231: When this corny old handkerchief-head would assert that Count Basie did not know piano, the atmosphere of The Jungle Inn would be ripe for murder.