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“A little saint with a color more lightful than orange”
“The time has come,” the Walrus said,
“To talk of many things;
Of shoes and ships and sealing-wax,
And cabbages and kings.”
THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER
They will tell you in Anchuria, that President Miraflores, of that volatilerepublic, died by his own hand in the coast town of Coralio; that he hadreached thus far in flight from the inconveniences of an imminent revolution;and that one hundred thousand dollars, government funds, which he carried withhim in an American leather valise as a souvenir of his tempestuousadministration, was never afterward recovered.
For a real, a boy will show you his grave. It is back of the town near alittle bridge that spans a mangrove swamp. A plain slab of wood stands at itshead. Some one has burned upon the headstone with a hot iron this inscription:
RAMON ANGEL DE LAS CRUZES
Y MIRAFLORES
PRESIDENTE DE LA REPUBLICA
DE ANCHURIA
QUE SEA SU JUEZ DIOS
It is characteristic of this buoyant people that they pursue no man beyond thegrave. “Let God be his judge!”—Even with the hundred thousandunfound, though greatly coveted, the hue and cry went no furth