THE UMBRELLA MAN
THE UMBRELLA MAN
IT was an insolent day. There are days which,
to imaginative minds, at least, possess strangely
human qualities. Their atmospheres predispose peo-
ple to crime or virtue, to the calm of good will, to
sneaking vice, or fierce, unprovoked aggression. The
day was of the last description. A beast, or a human
being in whose veins coursed undisciplined blood,
might, as involuntarily as the boughs of trees lash
before storms, perform wild and wicked deeds after
inhaling that hot air, evil with the sweat of sin-
evoked toil, with nitrogen stored from festering sores
of nature and the loathsome emanations of suffering
life.
It had not rained for weeks, but the humidity was
great. The clouds of dust which arose beneath the
man's feet had a horrible damp stickiness. His face
and hands were grimy, as were his shoes, his cheap,
ready-made suit, and his straw hat. However, the
man felt a pride in his clothes, for they were at least
the garb of freedom. He had come out of prison the
day before, and had scorned the suit proffered him
by the officials. He had given it away, and bought
a new one with a goodly part of his small stock of
money. This suit was of a small-checked pattern.
Nobody could tell from it that the wearer had just
left jail.
Pages:
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247