HOW A BARGAIN IS MADE.--THE WILES OF THE ITALIAN TRADESMAN.--THE NAKED
SULKY BEGGAR, AND THE JOVIAL WELL-CLAD BEGGAR.--WHO IS THE KING OF
BEGGARS?
"What are you thinking about, Buttons?"
"Well, Dick, to tell the truth, I have been thinking that if I do
find the Spaniards they won't have reason to be particularly proud of
me as a companion. Look at me."
"I look, and to be frank, my dear boy, I must say that you look more
shabby-genteel than otherwise."
"That's the result of travelling on one suit of clothes--without
considering fighting. I give up my theory."
"Give it up, then, and come out as a butterfly."
"Friend of my soul, the die is cast. Come forth with me and seek a
clothing-store."
It was not difficult to find one. They entered the first one that they
saw. The polite Roman overwhelmed them with attention.
"Show me a coat, Signore."
Signore sprang nimbly at the shelves and brought down every coat in
his store. Buttons picked out one that suited his fancy, and tried it
on.
"What is the price?"
With a profusion of explanation and description the Roman informed
him: "Forty piastres."
"I'll give you twelve," said Buttons, quietly.
The Italian smiled, put his head on one side, drew down the corners
of his mouth, and threw up his shoulders. This is the _shrug_. The
shrug requires special attention. The shrug is a gesture used by the
Latin race for expressing a multitude of things, both objectively and
subjectively. It is a language of itself. It is, as circumstances
require, a noun, adverb, pronoun, verb, adjective, preposition,
interjection, conjunction. Yet it does not supersede the spoken
language. It comes in rather when spoken words are useless, to convey
intensity of meaning or delicacy. It is not taught, but it is learned.
The coarser, or at least blunter, Teutonic race have not cordially
adopted this mode of human intercommunication. The advantage of the
shrug is that in one slight gesture it contains an amount of meaning
which otherwise would require many words. A good shrugger in Italy is
admired, just as a good conversationist is in England, or a good stump
orator in America. When the merchant shrugged, Buttons understood him
and said:
"You refuse? Then I go. Behold me!"
"Ah, Signore, how can you thus endeavor to take advantage of the
necessities of the poor?"
"Signore, I must buy according to my ability."
The Italian laughed long and quietly. The idea of an Englishman or
American not having much money was an exquisite piece of humor.
"Go not, Signore. Wait a little. Let me unfold more garments. Behold
this, and this. You shall have many of my goods for twelve piastres."
[Illustration: The Shrug.]
"No, Signore; I must have this, or I will have none."
"You are very hard, Signore. Think of my necessities. Think of the
pressure of this present war, which we poor miserable tradesmen feel
most of all."
"Then addio, Signore; I must depart."
They went out and walked six paces.
"P-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-t!" (Another little idea of the Latin race. It is
a much more penetrating sound than a loud Hallo! Ladies can use it.
Children too. This would be worth importing to America.)
"P-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-t!"
Buttons and Dick turned. The Italian stood smiling and bowing and
beckoning.
"Take it for twenty-four piastres."
"No, Signore; I can only pay twelve."
With a gesture of ruffled dignity the shopkeeper withdrew. Again they
turned away. They had scarcely gone ten paces before the shop-keeper
was after them:
"A thousand pardons. But I have concluded to take twenty."
"No; twelve, and no more."
"But think, Signore; only think."
"I do think, my friend; I do think."
"Say eighteen."
"No, Signore."
"Seventeen."
"Twelve."
"Here. Come back with me."
They obeyed. The Italian folded the coat neatly, tied it carefully,
stroked the parcel tenderly, and with a meek yet sad smile handed it
to Buttons.
"There--only sixteen piastres."
Buttons had taken out his purse. At this he hurriedly replaced it,
with an air of vexation.
"I can only give twelve."
"Oh, Signore, be generous. Think of my struggles, my expenses, my
family. You will not force me to lose."
"I would scorn to force you to any thing, and therefore I will
depart."
"Stop, Signore," cried the Italian, detaining them at the door. "I
consent. You may take it for fourteen."
"For Heaven's sake, Buttons, take it," said Dick, whose patience was
now completely exhausted. "Take it."
"Twelve," said Buttons.
"Let me pay the extra two dollars, for my own peace of mind," said
Dick.
"Nonsense, Dick. It's the principle of the thing. As a member of the
Dodge Club, too, I could not give more."
"Thirteen, good Signore mine," said the Italian piteously.
"My friend, I have given my word that I would pay only twelve."
"Your word? Your pardon, but to whom?"
"To you."
"Oh, then, how gladly I release you from your word!"
"Twelve, Signore, or I go."
"I can not."
Buttons turned away. They walked along the street, and at length
arrived at another clothier's. Just as they stepped in a hand was
laid on Buttons's shoulder, and a voice cried out--
"Take it! Take it, Signore!"
"Ah! I thought so. Twelve?"
"Twelve."
Buttons paid the money and directed where it should be sent. He found
out afterward that the price which an Italian gentleman would pay was
about ten piastres.
There is no greater wonder than the patient waiting of an Italian
tradesman, in pursuit of a bargain. The flexibility of the Italian
conscience and imagination under such circumstances is truly
astonishing.
Dress makes a difference. The very expression of the face changes when
one has passed from shabbiness into elegance. After Buttons had
dressed himself in his gay attire his next thought was what to do with
his old clothes.
"Come and let us dispose of them."
"Dispose of them!"
"Oh, I mean get rid of them. I saw a man crouching in a corner nearly
naked as I came up. Let us go and see if we can find him. I'd like to
try the effect."
They went to the place where the man had been seen. He was there
still. A young man, in excellent health, brown, muscular, lithe.
He had an old coverlet around his loins--that was all. He looked up
sulkily.
"Are you not cold?"
"No," he blurted out, and turned away.
"A boor," said Dick. "Don't throw away your charity on him."
"Look here."
The man looked up lazily.
"Do you want some clothes?"
No reply.
"I've got some here, and perhaps will give them to you."
The man scrambled to his feet.
"Confound the fellow!" said Dick. "If he don't want them let's find
some one who does."
"Look here," said Buttons.
He unfolded his parcel. The fellow looked indifferently at the things.
"Here, take this," and he offered the pantaloons.
The Italian took them and slowly put them on. This done, he stretched
himself and yawned.
"Take this."
It was his vest.
The man took the vest and put it on with equal _sang froid_. Again
he yawned and stretched himself.
"Here's a coat."
Buttons held it out to the Italian. The fellow took it, surveyed it
closely, felt in the pockets, and examined very critically the
stiffening of the collar. Finally he put it on. He buttoned it
closely around him, and passed his fingers through his matted hair.
Then he felt the pockets once more. After which he yawned long and
solemnly. This done, he looked earnestly at Buttons and Dick. He saw
that they had nothing more. Upon which he turned on his heel, and
without saying a word, good or bad, walked off with immense strides,
turned a corner, and was out of sight. The two philanthropists were
left staring at one another. At last they laughed.
"That man is an original," said Dick.
"Yes, and there is another," said Buttons.
As he spoke he pointed to the flight of stone steps that goes up from
the Piazza di Spagna. Dick looked up. There sat The Beggar!
ANTONIO!
Legless, hatless, but not by any means penniless, king of Roman
beggars, with a European reputation, unequalled, in his own
profession--there sat the most scientific beggar that the world has
ever seen.
He had watched the recent proceedings, and caught the glance of the
young men.
As they looked up his voice came clear and sonorous through the air:
"O most generous--0 most noble--O most illustrious youths--Draw near
--Look in pity upon the abject--Behold legless, armless, helpless, the
beggar Antonio forsaken of Heaven--For the love of the Virgin--For the
sake of the saints--In the name of humanity--Date me uno mezzo
baioccho--Sono poooocooooovero--Miseraaaaaaaaaabile--
Desperrrraaaaaaaado!"