The Cape Girardeau Democrat. (Cape Girardeau, Mo.) 1876-1909, 1898-04-16
The Ubiquitous Manikin.
BY FRANK

VOU would not have dignified him
with the description of a little
man. Little is no word to convey an
idea of the lack of size. He was ride
ulously, : foolishly smalI-diminutive,
fral and utterly insignificant in APP
pearance. He could not have stood
more than fOur feet six; and he was
slight in proportion. But his face
wore a look of ~preternatural gravity.
You might have imagined that upon his
shOulders-had he any shoulders TO
speak of-rested the cares of an en-
pire. He looked like a boy masqerad-
ing with the head and face of a man re-
duCed in size so as to suit his juvenile
body. And the sOlemnity of his fea-
lures was intensified by his clothing,
which was of the most funereal type.
He was dressed in a suit of black, with
black hat, black tie, and even black cuff
buttons; and he carried a blackthorn
stick. almost as big as himself.
In most people you can trace a re-
semblance to some animal, or bird, or
fish, if you are gifted with any magma
ton at all: and this man reminded me
very forcibly of a jackdaw. He had a
retreating chin and prominent nose,
which, in profile, looked very much like
n bill. Then he had a peculiar way of
cCcking up one of his little, ferrety eyes
and looking at you out of the corner
of it, just as a jackdaw does.
When l heard him speak | found that
his voice was as weak and insignificant
as his general appearance. 1t was n
mean kind of voice. don't know how
otherwise to describe it.
l suppose if had met the little man
en- the street l might have turned round
for a second to look after him, and then
gone on about my business, without
troubling my head any more about him.
tut | was so placed that | had nothing
to do for some minutes but watch the
manikin; and the consequence was that
1 did trouble my head about him. He
seemed to fascinate me. | could not
take my eyes off him. And after | had
looked at MIN for some time a feeling of
irritability seemed to come over me. l
felt n curious longing to pick him up
between my finger and thumb and drop
him overheard into the dock.
For it was on board an ocean liner
thatImet this miniature pieceofhuman-
ity. | was waiting for the vessel to
sail, on her voyage to New York. My
diminutive friend was oil the deck, APP
parently taking leave of Il lady pas
senger. While he was. perhaps, 40
years of age, l judged her to be about
2S; and she was a woman of normal
size and pleasant appearance-so differ
ent from her companion.
He looked so little, so utterly i'm
practicable, that there seemed to be no
reason, no necessity, nor any excuse for
his existence at all. And he had, with
all his p~ortentuous solemnity, a certain
deprecating expression; his lips were
continually twitching with n nervous
kind of movement, as though he were
framing an apology for being alive at
all.
At last came the signal for all
strangers to go ashore.
We'll, good-by, my dear" said the lit
tie man, standing on tiptoe to kiss the
lady, and speaking in that irritatingIy
piping voice of his. Give nv love
to" but the finish of the sentence was
lost to me as he was hustled off the
boat.
l watched him go down the gangway
and then stand at the dockside.
At last the vessel swung loose from
her mornings: and as she moved slowly
out into the Mersey the last ! saw of nv
little friend with his black suit, black
hat, black tie. black cuff buttons and
general undertaker's air was his way
ing a farewell salute to the lady pas
senger with a black-bordered handker-
chief.
When l turned back to look at the lady
I saw there were tears in her eyes: and
then it occurred to ME that the frail,
understood fellow was better off than [:
for there was no eye to moisten at my
departure from Liverpool; there would
be none to Tighten on my return to New
York.
/ found that the lady's name was Mrs.
Johnson-a common enough name;
but, had l l been inclined, l had no oppor-
tunity of learning anything from her
concerning Der microscopical friend,