The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1888-06-09 00:00:00

A TYPICAL MISER.

One night I had occasion, says a New York Times
correspondent, to visit an old native money lender
and store keeper. I stumbled up two or three badly
worn steps into a room about 15 feet square, lighted
only by the occasional glare of a cigarette. It was so
dark that I came up full against the wooden counter
as I inquired of the individual, who I felt must be
behind the cigarette, if Don Mariano was at home. I
told him I had a draft against him for 5000 dols.
This at least required a light—the dark object rose
and lighted a small candle. I handed him the draft,
which he bent over, resting his elbows on the counter
to scrutinise. He was a man not more than sixty
years of age, but he appeared to be past his hun-
dredth year. His spare form, covered with a black,
threadbare coat, out of the top of which came a high
collar which had never seen a laundress, his white
hair contrasting strongly with the dark leather skin
of his face. As his palsied hands clutched the draft
I examined the store. There were shelves from
floor to ceiling filled with pottery, highly-coloured
Indian calicoes, native brown sugar, and, in fact,
every article useful to the native of Honduras, from
a "machete," or large knife, to a saddle or a bottle
of whisky. Surely, I thought, as I watched the old
man, I have come to the wrong house for that amount
of money, but at length he grunted " Bueno," and
passed me a pen to sign a receipt. He was very
careful to spell out the signature and to peer into my
face with a most villainous pair of little black eyes.
He put away the receipt and, stooping down, took
from some receptacle on the floor and placed before
me on the counter 50 packages, each containing
100 silver dollars, a good load for a pack mule. I
looked at the pile of money and then at him. " Feta
mucho " (it is heavy) said he. I told him I would
call again in the morning with a wagon. Again he
grunted " Bueno," replaced the money, wishing me
good evening, and extinguishingthe candle as I passed
out. Don Mariano is one of the richest men of
Central America. His money has been hoarded for
years, loaned on good security at 3 per cent. per
month, 36 per cent, a year. He has " cornered "
corn, the principal food of the poor, very often, and
in each operation heaven seems to have aided him by
failure of crops. Several times in his life he has been
" hit " very hard. A certain president of his country
was in need of 300,000 dols. and applied to Don
Mariano. Dan Mariano knew very well he would
never see a dollar of it again, and pleaded extreme
poverty. The president made the application a
second time. Don Mariano again refused the loan,
but he was summoned to the palace, sent to the
penitentiary, and, with one side of his head and face
shaved, was made to work in the streets as a member
of the chain-gang, much to the joy of his many
debtors. He bore up bravely under this treatment
for nearly two months, when he turned over to the
President the sum required. This little experience
proved of great value on a subsequent occasion. On
the death of a certain President each one of his Cabinet
Ministers was anxious to succeed; but any successor
had to have the army on his side. The Vice-President
went to Don Mariano for 150,000 dols. It was de-
livered in 10 minutes, the army was paid, the Vice-
President succeeded, and the former Cabinet was
banished. It is next to impossible to form any exact
idea of this man's wealth—he is afraid of banks and
never intrusts them with a cent. We know he owns
two or three coffee estates and much real estate, but
no one knows but himself how much money he can
show at a moment's notice.