Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1895-08-22

terrible adventure, land I have lost
some of my clothes by an accident on
the way. Can you sell me suit?
ANYTHING will do. I am not particu-
lar"
The old man took his pipe from his
mouth.
do you fear the plague?" he asked.
81 have just recovered from an at
tack of it," l replied coolly.
He looked at me attentively from
head to foot. and then broke into q
low chuckling laugh.
"Ha! hal" he mutterc,l half 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! 1 love it! buy all the clothes
1 can get that are taken from the
corpses; they are always excellent
clothes. 1 never clean them; I sell
them again at once; yes, yes! Why
not? The people must die; the sooner
the better! I help the good God as
much as I can" And the old BIAS
phemer crossed himself devoutly.
looked dows upon him from where
I stood drawn up to my full height,
with glance of disgust. He filled me
wynn somathin9 of tho sar~ rannlaion
I had felt when I touched the unD
nameable thing that fastened ON my
neck while slept in the vault.
"Come," I said somewhat roughly,
will you sell me suit or not?"
eyes, yes" and he rose stifny from
his seat; he was very short Of stature,
and so bent with age and infrity that
he looked more like the crooked bough
of tree than a 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 gentleman. All!
what beautiful cloth, what strong
wool English make? Yes, yes. He was
English that wore it; 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 and calling bravely
for more brandy. Ha, ha! q fine death;
a splendid death! His landlord sold
me his clothes for three francs-one,
two, three-but you must give me six,
that is fair profit, is it not? And am
old and poor. must make something
to live upon.'
threw aside the tweed suit he dis
played for my inspection.
''Nay," I said, II care nothing for
the plague; but find me something bet
ter than the cast-off clothing of a
brandy-soaked Englishman. would
rather wear the molly garb of a fell
low who played the fool in Carnival"
The old dealer laughed with crack
ling sound in his withered throat like
the rattling of stones in q tin pot.
"Good, goodv' he croaked. II like
that; like that. Thou art old, but
thou art merry. That pleases me; one
should laugh always. Why not? Death
laughs; you never see solemn skull;
1t laughs always!"
And he plunged his long, lean fin
gers into deep drawer full of miscel-
laneous garments, mumbling to him
self all the while. l stood beside him
in silence, bordering ON his words,
''Thou art old, but merry" What did
he mean by calling 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
thing yesterday-a very foolish thing.
1t took one of the richest men in the
neighborhood; young, too, strong and
brave; he looked as if he would never
die. The plague touched him in the
morning and before sunset he was
nailed up and put down in his big
family vault; cold lodging and less
handsomely furnished than his grand
marble villa on the heights yonder.
When I heard the news told the Ma
donna she was wicked. Oh, yes, I
rated her soundly; she was woman,
and capricious; good scolding brings
her to reason. Look you! I am a
friend to God and the plague, but they
both did a stupid thing when they
took Count Fabio Romani."
I started, but quickly controlled my
self into an appearance of indiffer-
ence
Indeed" I said carelessly. "And
pray who was he that should not de-
serve to die as well as other people?''
The old man raised himself from his
STOPPING attitude and stared at me
with his keen black eyes.
"Who was he? who was he?" he cried
in shrill tone. ooh, he! One can see
you know nothing of Naples. You have
not heard Of the rich Romani? See
you, l wished him to live. He was
clever and bold, but 1 did not grudge
him that-Do, he was good to the
poor; he gave away hundreds of
francs in charity. l have seen him
Often-I saw him married." And here
his parchment face screwed itself into
an expression of the most malignant
cruelty. "Pah! l hate his wife-a fair
soft thing, like white snake! used
to watch them both from the corners
Of the streets as they drove along in
their fine carriage, and / wondered
how 1t wouLd all end, whether he or
she would gain the victory first. !
wanted him to win / would have
helped him to kill her, yes! But the
saints have made mistake this time,
for he is dead and that she-devil has
all. Oh, yes, God and the plague have
done q foolish thing for once"
listened to the old wretch with
deepening aversion, yet with some
curiosity, too. Why should he hate
my wife? ! thought, unless. indeed.
Il. l.. III a.