River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1901-06-06

from the door OF house he pa ssed
/ He wheeled thither, like a rabbit, halt
scared. He saw a girls skirt whisk-
ing away, and there was no more
! giggle. Red and hot he came to his
home in a mood of mingled regret,
doubt and perpleXity. Why those
chickering's? Could it be. after all,
some deception? Was it possible
that he hadn't quite mastered the
grandmother trick?
He pondered over this, lingering the
iron key in his hip pocket. Suddenly
his American vim came back. He'd
see the thing through, blast it! He
! turned and retraced his steps, willy.
Up the street of the date-palm he
came painting. At a corner near
! Trinidad's hut he hid, or thought he
hid. He sat down on rock, round
the angle, to see if they came march
ing by with their grandmother. The
sun was exceedingly hot, and he
! looked broiling, sitting there with
his naturally agonized countenance
facing the street of the date-paln.
! He was a magnificent monument of
pain; but he would see the thing
through.
Two of Trinidad's sons-large, over
grown boys in white cotton and SAN
| dals-suddenly came running across
his view toward the house of mourn
| ing. They had evidently been out on
an errand since Jaggers left. They
were Juggling, with good speed, four
large iute sacks full of something
which seemed like bottles. A little
silver change chinked in the hand of
one, and he didn't seem sad. Jaggers
pricked up his ears. They also
pricked up their ears. stared at him.
and dashed on in a delirium, the con
tents of the bags rafting. A little
later the renewed wailing in the
house of mourning could be heard by
Theophilus. He broiled on.
At noon the whistle of the distant
new white brewery (Which brews the
beer called "Porfirio Diaz') shrilly
proclaimed the hour, and the ponder
Gus bells of Corte's cathedral tolled
forth a like information. Just then,
about three of those same Cruel
smeared heads peered round the cor
ner stealthily at Jaggers. With
great hustling, those youngsters then
tore back, probably as a kind of an
nouncement
Now, it must be remembered that
the wages which Jaggers paid were
very large, worthy of continuous cul-
tivation.
Out of the house of mourning came
the cortege. Four brawny grandsons
bore the coffin high on their Shout
ders. 1t was plainly heavy, and the
lid was nailed down. Trailing on be-
hind came Trinidad and Marcelina,
twined round one another, wailing;
the seven other children, down to the
tiniest, fat, solemn toddler, with
nothing on but shirt; the aged WON.
an; the coffin-maker, benevolently
smiling; and many neighbors, all
more or less joyous in appearance.
The three inharmonious pigs were
seen to appear disconsolate for a
moment at the door. Among the
neighbor women was one all muffled
up, so that only sepulchral eyes
peered forth. She took the death of
this grandmother hard. And as they
passed the corner, Jaggers, seated on
his rock. broiled on.
After a moment he arose and fol-
lowed. They had told him that serv-
ants were tricky. He'd see it through.
So he pursued the cortege for two
weary miles. The whole length Of
Cuernavaca they went. Some of the
mourners now and then turned and
apprised their fellows that Theo-
philus was pursuing still.
Out of the town. down the zigzag
descent into the canyon, up the wind
ing zigzag ascent to the opposite
summit, went the procession. But
Jaggers paused on the hither heights.
There wasn't any use going any fur
Their. He could see across to the
place where the great gate of the
cemetery rose up. He sat down on
the precipice's edge and watched the
cortege go climbing. Yes, sure
enough, they entered the walled
graveyard; the gate closed after
them. Jaggers, subdued, STROBE home
in murky reverie.
A scout at the cemetery gate saw
him go. On through the city Of the
dead plunged the cortege, now with
rude haste Hilarious grew the
mourning. Through a rear gate they
made the joyous exit. Running,
laughing, dancing along a narrow
path which, hidden from Cuernavaca,
leads to San Anton, rollicled the fu-
neral, coffin, and all. That casket
ratified like bottles. The old woman
who had stalked on, mufiled, tore the
cloth from her head, revealed herself
the coflin-maker's great aunt, the
whilom corpse and rapturously cried,
''Whoopee!"
In San Anton the festival was ut
its height. Crowds sported and gam
bled, watched the bull fight, bought
granaditas, sent up balloons, and
drank, and drank! Amid unseemly
merriment the coffin was torn open.
Dozens of bottles of the cheapest
brand NJ porfrio Diaz bper n,rna