San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-05-23

houses of the narrow street. n acCosted
him-and he brought his gaze swiftly
down to my level, and stared at me with
keen inQuisitiveness.
Il have had a long tramp" said
briefly, for he was not the kind of man
to whom | could explain my recent ter
rible adventure, land have lost some
Of my clothes by an accident on the way.
Can you sell me suit?-anything will
do am not particular.
The old man took his pipe from his
mouth.
"Do you fear the plague?" he asked
81 have just recovered from an attack
of it," | replied Coolly.
He looked at me attentivelY FROM head
to foot and then broke into low chuck
ling laugh.
"Ha! hal he muttered halt to him
self, half to me. "GOod-goOd Here
is one like myself-not afraid-not
afraid We are not towards. We do
not find fault with the blessed saints
they send the plague. The beautiful
plague!---I love it! | buy az the clothes
can get that are taken from the corpseS
---they are nearly always excellent
clothes. | never clean them---l sell
them again at OnCe---yeS---yeS! Why
not? The people must die---the sooner
the better! l help the good God as
much as l can" And the old BIAS
phemer crossed himself devOutly.
looked down upon him from where |
stood dawn up to my full height, with a
glance Of disgust He filled me with
something of the same repulSiOn l had
felt when | touched the unnameable
Thing that fastened on my neck while
slept in the vault.
Gomez | said somewhat roughly,
twill you sell me a suit or nCt?"
Eyes, yesi' and he rose stffly from
his seat; he was very short of stature,
and so bent with age and infirmity that
he looked more like the crooked bOugh
of tree than man, as he hObbled be-
fore me into his dark shop. Come in
side, come inside! Take your choice;
there is enough here to suit all tastes,
See now, what would you? Behold here
the dress of a gentleman, ali. what beau
tiful cloth, what strong wool English
| make? Yes, yes! He was English that
wore it; a big strong Milford that drank
beer and brandy like water-and rich, -
| just heaven---hOw rich. But the plague
| took him; he died Cursing God, aud call
| ing bravcly for more brandy. Ha. ha! a
fine death---a splendid death! His land
| lord sold me his clothes for three francs
| lone, two, three, but you must give
| me six, dat is fair profit, is it not? And
| ] am old and poor. ! must make some
| thing TO live upon"
| threw aside the tweed suit he dis
| played for my inspection.
| Nay" l said Il care nothing fol
the plague, but find me something
better than the cast-off cloth
( ing of branGy-soaked English
man. would rather wear the molly
garb of fellow who played the fool il
Carnival"
The old dealer laughed with a crack
ling sound in his withered throat like
the rafting of stones in tin pot.
Good, goodl'' he CrOaked. 81 like
that, like that! Thou art old, but thou
art merry. That pIeases me; one should
laugh always. Why not? Death laughs:
you never see solemn skull; it laughs
always"
And he plunged his long lean fingers
into deep drawer full Of miscellaneous
garments, mumbling to himself all the
while. | stood beside him in silence,
bordering on his words, Thou art old
but merry" What did he mean by call.
ing me old? He must be blind, thought
or in his dOtage. Suddenly he looked
up.
Talking of the plague" he said, "it
is not always wise. 1t did a foolish Trims
veSterda.. e very foolish thing. 1t tool