The Washington herald., 1920-12-06
CONTINUED FROM YESTERDAY.

CONTINUED FROM YESTERDAY.
At . o'clock the next morning,
after my chicken livers en- bro
chette try them il you can find
that hoteD, I strayed out into the
drizzle. which was still on. for an
unlimited run. At the first corner
1 came upon Uncle Caesar. He was
a stalwart negro. older than the
pyramids, with gray wool and
face that reminded me of Brutus,
and a second afterwards of the late
King Cettiwayo. He wore the most
remarkable coat that 1 ever had
seen or expect to see. 1t reached
to his ankles and had once been a
Confederate gray in colors. But
rain and sun and age had so varie-
gated 1t that Joseph's coat, beside
it. would have faded to a pale
monochrome. L must linger with
that coat. for it has to do with the
story-the story that is so long Ia
coming. because you can hardly ex-
pect anything to happen in Nash
vile.
Once it must have been the mill
tary coat of an officer. The cape
of it had vanished, but all adown
its front i had been frogged and
tasseled magnificentlY. But now the
frogs and tassels were gone. In
their stead had been patiently
stitched Il surmised by some sur
viving black mammy'D new frogs
made of cunningly twisted COM
mon hempen twine. This twine was
frayed and disheveled. 1t must have
been added to the coat as a SUBJ
stitute for vanished splendors, with
tasteless but painstaking devotion.
for 1t followed faithfully the curves
of the long missing frogs. And. to
complete the comedy and pathos OF
the garment, all its buttons were
gone save one. The second button
from the top alone remained. The
coat was fastened by other twine,
strings tied through the button
holes and other holes rudely pierced
in the opposite side. There was
never such a weird garment so fan
tastically bedecked and of so many
mottled hues. The lone button was
the size of a half-dollar, made of
yellow horn and sewed on with
coarse. twine.
This negro stood by a carriage
SO ola that Ham himself might have
started a hack line with IL after
he left the ark with the two ami
mails hitched to 1t. AS I approached
he threw open the door. drew out
a feather duster. waved II without
using it. and said in deep, rumbling
tones:
Step right in. sub; amt a speck
of dust in titus got back from a
funeral, sub"
inferred that on such gala oc-
casions carriages were given an
extra cleaning. looked up and
down the street and perceived that
there was little choice among the
vehicles for hire that lined the
curb. / looked in my memorandum
book for the address of Azalea
Adair.
Il want to 60 to Ssi Jessamine
street" said, and was about to
step into the hack. But for an in
slant the thick, long. gorilla-like
arm of the old negro barred me. On
his massive and saturnine face
look of sudden suspicion and en-
nifty flashed for a moment. Then,
with quickly returning conviction,
he asked blandishingly: What are
you gwine there for, boss?"
What is that to your" 1 asked, a
little sharply.
"Nothin'. sub. jus' nothin'. Only
it's a lonesome kind of part of town
and-few folks ever has business out
there. Step right in. The seats Is
ciean-jes' got back from a fun
eral. suh."
A mile and a half II must have
been to our journeys end. 1 could
hear nothing but the fearful rattle
Of the ancient hack over the un-
even brick paving; I could smell