The Savannah morning news. (Savannah, Ga.) 1900-current, 1904-01-06
FOR SALE,BY L1PPMAN DRUG COMPANY.
TWO OLDEST MEN.
Pen Portraits of Two Very Interest
ing PersOnages.

Pen Portraits of Two Very Interest
ing PersOnages.
] From the St. Louis Globe Democrat.
Away among the hills and valleys
that roll between the lofty forest-clad
slopes of Bussaco and the pale blue
waters of the Mondego, Portugals
classic river of romance. dwell a race
of people famous for the ages they
attain. Men over so and even 90 are
found so frequently that they excite
little attention.
Two men in this district, now hvingo
are. as far as can be ascertained. the
oldest inhabitants of the world. Unit
ed, their tale of years-well authenti-
cated-scores 235. One of them is
rs. the other is five years older. The
latter can remember carrying his young
rival across the ford of the Mondego
more than a hundred years ago. Both
remember the peninsular war as if it
were an event of yesterday.
They dwell in adjacent villages, each
man the pride and glory of his own
people. The younger of these ancients
is Antonio NeaVa of Pinheiro. Stride
across two miles of pine-carpeted
sward and you reach Val Remigio, the
village of the elder, universally known
as =ose.
The only thing that the two pat
riarchs have in common is their hon
orable age. Two men more differ
ent in temperament, appearance ana
bearing it would be difficult to find.
Jose is a jovial, happy, cheerful man;
Antonio is haunted by grim shapes of
fear and terror. He passes his days
in an agony of doubt lest death should
suddenly pounce down and put an end
to his long immunity. Jose skips
about, confident in the belief that death
has lost its power over him, and that
he is destined to pass his days in an
immortal youth. Jose sits on the
steps of his humble dwelling, passing
his days in serene satisfaction He
rambles under the trees, scarcely us
ing the long staff which he carries more
from custom than from necessity. An
tonic lies on mis- bed in darkness with
his face to the wall. There are fur
rowed wrinkles of content on loses
sunburnt brow. Antonio's face is a
withdrawn mask of death.
There is little more to say of lose.
/ leave him as / saw him-the CEN
ter of picture of satisfaction. and
health, quaffing, in the glorious sun
shine of that lovely country, a goblet
of wine that had been pressed from
grapes that grow in Mondego vine
yard.
There is very different story to
tell of Antonio NeaVa. His house re-
quiTed some finding, even In such
miniature village as Pinheiro. After
we had looked into three or four dark
dwellings and offered apologies to con-
tented and Indifferent cattle for in
truding, stately, dignified dame came
to our rescue. She knew what was
wanted by instinct. Hundreds of
persons had come our way before.
Was she willing to show us the house
of Antonio the ancient? Quite so.
Who was better qualified to conduct the
senhores to the old man? Was she not
Antonio's own daughter Josepha?
She was not without interest herself.
When asked her age she replied with
a touch of true femininity that she
was 40. More than that she would not
admit, but in reality she was in her
goth year. Twenty years had she been
a widow. Now she, as dutiful daugh-
ter, was her fathers nurse and guard
ian.
Josepha was old, undeniably old. Her
face was heavy with the rigid burrows
of age. She looked in reality consid-
erably older than her father. The
stateliness of her bearing was the re-
suit of a life in the open, and the peas
ant practice of carrying all burdens
on the head Her dignified manner
was the due accompaniment of an I'M
spoiled peasant people, natures most
royal race.
Taking a brazen lamp of ancient
make in her hand she bade us follow.
Antonio's house stood before us, the
! door wide open. UP six steps we clam