Jasper County Democrat, Volume 1, Number 31, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 November 1898 — HE GOT THE TROUSERS. [ARTICLE]

HE GOT THE TROUSERS.

The Adventure of a New-Yerker in a Porto Rican More. It became necessary yesterday, says a staff correspondent of a New York paper, Writing from Porto Rico, that I should seek another habitation than the trousers I wore. They simply were untenable, because of three weeks’ severe horseback riding. So I entered a store where the merchant sat in a chair, half asleep. “Buenos dios?” he said, not opening his eyes. “Buenos Ayres,” I responded. • He shivered slightly and opened his one eye. v “Una carnisa?” he said. “Pocatapelt,” I answered. “Givro?” he said. “Calzandllos?” “No,” I responded. “Timbuctoo, Bingalese.” Both of his eyes were open by this time and he carefully rolled two dgarettes, one for himself and the other for himself, while I treated myself to a cigar. “Majado,” he ventured, “mucha agua.” “Si Senor, Broncho, Himalaya, Nevada.” We were getting along famously, but he seemed uneasy and went out to consult a friend. They soon returned and regarded me strangely. “Bandera?” said the proprietor. “Sierra, Pocahontas, Indiana,” I smilingly answered. The two men fell into each other’s arms, then disappeared around the corner for half an hour, evidently hoping I would steal what I wanted and go away. Returning and plainly disappointed at finding me still in the store, they Invited me by signs to join them in a glass of brandy. Finally I became desperate. “Oh, thou hound,” I exclaimed, “descendant of the squat and subtle Moor; thou decadent of the lordly and original Carib, gereo, comprehendo, observe©!” and I majestically revolved, exposing to his full view the rent bosom of my trousers. "Why in didn’t you say you wanted pants?” he said. I had been talking to an imported New York salesman all this time.