"Good-morning," Mr. Button said
nervously, to the clerk in the Chesapeake Dry Goods Company. "I want to
buy some clothes for my child."
"How old is your child, sir?"
"About six hours," answered Mr. Button,
without due consideration.
"Babies' supply department in the rear."
"Why, I don't think—I'm not sure that's what I
want. It's—he's an unusually large-size child. Exceptionally—ah large."
"They have the largest child's sizes."
"Where is the boys' department?" inquired
Mr. Button, shifting his ground desperately. He felt that the clerk must surely
scent his shameful secret.
"Right here."
"Well——" He hesitated. The notion of
dressing his son in men's clothes was repugnant to him. If, say, he could only
find a very large boy's suit, he might cut off that long and awful beard, dye
the white hair brown, and thus manage to conceal the worst, and to retain
something of his own self-respect—not to mention his position in Baltimore society.
But a frantic inspection of the boys' department
revealed no suits to fit the new-born Button. He blamed the store, of course—in
such cases it is the thing to blame the store.
Fighting during railroad strike, 1877. Wikipedia |
"How old did you say that boy of yours
was?" demanded the clerk curiously.
"He's—sixteen."
"Oh, I beg your pardon. I thought you said
six hours. You'll find the youths' department in the next
aisle."
Mr. Button turned miserably away. Then he stopped,
brightened, and pointed his finger toward a dressed dummy in the window
display. "There!" he exclaimed. "I'll take that suit, out there
on the dummy."
The clerk stared. "Why," he protested,
"that's not a child's suit. At least it is, but it's for elegant
dress. You could wear it yourself!"
"Wrap it up," insisted his customer
nervously. "That's what I want."
The astonished clerk obeyed.
Back at the hospital Mr. Button entered the nursery
and almost threw the package at his son. "Here's your clothes," he spoke
rudely.
The old man untied the package and viewed the
contents with a surprised eye.
"They look sort of funny to me," he complained,
"I don't want to be made a monkey of—"
"You've made a monkey of me!" retorted
Mr. Button fiercely. "Never you mind how funny you look. Put them on—or
I'll—or I'll spank you." He swallowed uneasily at the
penultimate word, feeling nevertheless that it was the proper thing to say.
"All right, father"—this with a grotesque
simulation of filial respect—"you've lived longer; you know best. Just as
you say."
As before, the sound of the word "father"
caused Mr. Button to start violently.
"And hurry."
"I'm hurrying, father."
When his son was dressed Mr. Button regarded him
with depression. The costume consisted of dotted socks, pink pants, and a
belted blouse with a wide white collar. Over the latter waved the long whitish
beard, drooping almost to the waist. The effect was not good.
"Wait!"
Mr. Button seized a pair hospital scissors and with
three quick snaps amputated a large section of the beard. But even with this
improvement the ensemble fell far short of perfection. The remaining brush of untidy
hair, the watery eyes, the ancient teeth, seemed oddly out of tone with the fun
of the costume. Mr. Button, however, was inflexible—he held out his hand.
"Come along!" he said sternly.
His son took the hand trustingly. "What are
you going to call me, dad?" he trembled as they walked from the
nursery—"just 'baby' for a while? till you think of a better name?"
Mr. Button grunted. "I don't know," he
answered harshly. "I think we'll call you Methuselah." (inglés más fácil)
Vocabulario
Baltimore: es la ciudad más grande en el estado de Maryland en Estados Unidos. Está
ubicada en el área central del estado a lo largo del Patapsco River. Fue fundada
en 1729. Después de la declinación de sus manufacturas la ciudad se orientó a
los servicios.
Lleva este nombre en honor a Cecilius Calvert, Lord Baltimore, fundador
y propietario de la colonia Maryland.
Methuselah: (en la Biblia) patriarca del Viejo Testamento que vivió 969
años y a quién se considera la epítome de la longevidad (Génesis 5:21-27)
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Guemes 561, local 9, en el 4249159. 4400 Salta. Argentina
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