The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1892-02-13
THE LIVING SKELETON.
he, Indeed, Gave More Than
Eighty Francs to the Charity.

the Invalid the Living Skeleton, and
probably remorse for having thus
given him title so descriptively accu-
rate caused him to make friends with
the Living Skeleton, man who seemed
to have no friends.
Robbins never forgot their first con-
versation. 1t happened in this way: 1t
was the habit of the Living Skeleton
to leave his hotel promptly every morn
ing ut ten o'clock if the sun was shin
ing, and to shuttle rather than to walk
down the gravel street to the avenue
OF palms. There, picking out seat on
which the sun shone, the Living Skel-
ctoD would sit down and seem to wait
patiently for some one who never
came He wore q shawl around his
neck AMI soft cloth cap on his skull.
Every bone in his face stood out
against the skin, for there seemed to
be no flesh, and his clothes hung as
loosely on him as they. would have
upon a skeleton. 1t required no second
glance at the Living Skeleton to know
thst the remainder of his life was num-
bered by days or hours and not by
weeks or months. He didn't seem 70
have energy enough to read, and SO it
was that Robbins sat down one day ON
the bench beside him and said, sympa-
thetically:
II hope You are feeling better to-
day."
The Skeleton turned toward him and
laughed low. noiseless and mirthless
laugh for moment, and then said, in
q hollow, far-away voice that had no
lungs behind it: II am through with
feeling either better or worse"
''Oh. l hope it is not as bad as that"
said Robbins; the climate is doing
you good down here, is it not?"
Again the skeleton laughed silently.
and Robbins began to feel uneasy. The
Skeletons eyes were large and bright,
and they fastened themselves upon
Robbins in a way that increased that
gentleman's uneasiness, and made him
think that perhaps the Skeleton knew
he had so named him.
II have no more interest In climate.
said the Skeleton. 81 merely seem to
live because have been in the habit
of living for some years: presume that
Is 1t, because my lungs are entirely
gone. Why can talk or why / can
breathe is mystery to me You are
perfectly certain you hear me?"
''Oh, l hear you quite distinctly"
said Robbins
well, II 1t wasn't that people tell
me that they can hear me 1 wouldn't
believe that am really speaking, be-
cause, you see, have nothing 20 speak
with. Isn't It Shakespeare who saws
something about when the brains are
out the man is dead? Well. have seen
some men who make me think Shakes
peare was wrong in his diagnosis.
but 1t Is generally supposed that when
the lungs are gone man Ia dead. To
tell the truth, am dead, practically.
You know the old American story
about the man who walked around To
save funeral expenses; well, it isn't
quite that way with me, but I can an
preciate how the man felt Still, |
take keen interest in life. although
you might not think SO. You see. 1
haven't much time left; am going to
die at eight o'clock on the soth of
April Eight o'clock at night, not in
morning, just after table d'hote is done
with"
"You're going to rAats" cried Rob-
bins. in establishment
I'm going to die that day. You see,
have got things to such q fine point |
that can die any time 1 want to- II
could die right here now, If 1 wished
II you have any mortal interest in the |
matter Ill do It and show you that
what ] say Is true. don't mind much,
you know, although had fixed April |
the soth rs the limit 1t wouldn't mat |
ter . bit for me to 60 OF now, II it |
would be of any interest to you"
II beg you," said Robbins, very |
much alarmed, mot to try any exper-
iments on ray account l am quite
willing to believe anything you say /
about the wattsy--of course you ought
h kaow.S