When families gather down the bayous in south Louisiana there is usually at least one storyteller in the mist. For this story, it is Uncle David Prejean. Papaw Prejean, is the name, in and out of the family, that has been his calling since he was in his late fifties, thirty years ago. Papaw knows almost everything about everything and if you have any doubt he will quickly make sure you are left with no doubt... He is the master of all things of which most care little, but when a tale is required he is the man. At all times he knows just the right words to entertain. It was nearing Christmas a year or two back when he postulated this yarn
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Dinner was over, the drinking and dancing yet to start, everyone was sitting around in Aunt Peg's large living, dining and kitchen area little pockets of conversation happening on chairs, sofas, and the floor. The reverie was broken when my little Robbie shouted, "Papaw Prejean tells us the Christmas story."

'For sure!" clamored the children and a few adults
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"Alright," he says, "Y'all knows 'bout Christmas, but I will say it anyhow. Twas de night 'fore Christmas and..."

"Naw, Pawpaw not 'bout plums and clatter, but 'bout de man what is down de bayou. 'Bout Le Cringle."

"I just make up dat story, ain't 'bout Santa or toys or nuttin." Papaw Prejean says to the assemblage.

"We know, but dat is what we want." Says Robbie. Everyone including the parents nodded their heads in the affirmative.

"O'key dokie den, dat's what I's tells ya. Now, where do I begin?"

"Lewisana gots all kinda folks, blacks and whites, browns, and yellers, we got rednecks injins, Creoles and Cajuns, dat's us. Back yonder when de Brits kick us outta Canady we settle in Lewisana and calls de place Acadiana. It goes from de gulf to 'bout Alexander, then from Lake Charles to Nawlins. Dat is the land of the swamps, rivers, and bayous. It is der dat my story begins."

He takes a sip of eggnog then a sip of coffee before continuing, "Nicolas Le Cringle was born in de swamps and he lives in de swamps. Peoples says dat his Mama and Papa wuz shrimpers and trapper folk but da don't know for sure. Da just know dat when things are tough for de common folk down de bayou and swamp he jest seem to be there. Some peoples say dat Nico he lives alone, but others say he gots a woman and some little folks what helps him do what he do. Seems dat every place where the peoples stay in the swamps and bayous, da say Nico live close by dere; da says dat cause nobody really know where he does live. Peoples jest know he do live out past where the rest of de folks stay. He live out with the black bugs, snakes, and gators."
"All this talking is making me hungry, Peg, could you use some of that ham and make me a sandwich." He says, taking another sip of eggnog and coffee.

"Peoples argy all de time 'bout when Nicholas first helped out; some say it was de big hurricane, others de flood, more say de drout. I thinks it wuz de time of de big chill. Cuz he still makes de rounds ever Christmas."

"Back in de day dat even my pawpaw's, pawpaw wuz a young'un-cold come to de bayou. So cold it wuz dat de rivers stopped flowin and de bayous froze up like an ice cube. So cold it was de duck hast to walk cuz it's too cold to fly. Da say de ice on de bayou was so cold and hard you'd dull a sharp ax 'fore you could chop thru. And de cold stayed for days and days jest when dey think it is getting warm it get cold somemor. De peoples were gettin hungry, de chillin scared. Den on a Christmas morning dey wuz baskits of shrimps, fish, crab, crawfish aside the door of ever hous. Where they wuz chillin der wuz carved and stuffed do-dads and what-ya-call-it's for dem to play with."

"De peoples was happy and wonder-in where dis bounty come from, til a trapper name Slim Bill, come walking up de bayou. I'll tell you wha I see'd, he sez. I see'd, Nico he was in a pirogue being pulled by six gators walkin on de ice. Behin Nico was other pirogues loaded with all de stuff we all got. He was a laughing and poppin his whip as they headed toward next town. Wit each crack of the whip he call de gators by name; on Boudreaux, move yo tail Richard, shake a leg David, faster Quibideaux, easy now Dugas, get wit it Robicheaux. When he see me he shouts ya'll enjoy, I be back agin."

"Hey Peg, since I never got my samich could maybe someone get me a bowl of gumbo and tater salad?" Papaw requested.

"The rest Papaw the rest." The children shout together.

"What you mean the rest."

"The rest of Nico."

"Oh! Nico he still come around at Christmas and time of trouble but now he uses the airboat, marsh buggy and jet-ski. He jest as likely to bring store bought clothes and toys as to bring food. Just one thing you must remember is that like old Santa he don't come lest you believe."