“Well, I vum,” said Papa.
“Did you ever,” said Phemy.
“Geewhitakers,” said Sim.
The farmer brought out a wide board and we rolled him on it. Then I nailed narrow boards on the side, so that he was in a kind of a trough. There he lay, glistening in the sunlight. When I looked up I saw that Euphemia was giggling again.
“Why the laugh?” said I.
“Don’t you think he looks funny? I never expected to see a man’s bones like that.”
It hadn’t struck me that way before but it was funny, and I had to laugh too. Just then the man sneezed. Euphemia gathered up her skirts, for she had on a long dress, not one of the bathing suits the flappers wear on the streets nowadays, and made a bee line for the house. I felt kind of scary myself. It isn’t every day, I can tell you, that you dig up a jelly corpse and have him sneeze just as life-like! Pop Norman by this time was as white as a sheet. But what the corpse did next certainly made me stare. He opened one eye, and after looking around a bit, confused-like, he looked at me, and winked. I certainly was flabbergasted. Then he opened the other eye and sat up. Then the farmer scooted. The corpse began to talk to himself in some kind of outlandish jabber. I thought it sounded like Spanish but it came out like lightning and I couldn’t get it. I had studied Spanish at college but I was not very well acquainted with it. After saying the same thing over three or four times he turned to me and said it again—slowly, and quite imperiously. He was asking where his clothes were. I said I didn’t know but would enquire. I went to the house and found Euphemia very badly scared and the old man drinking blackberry brandy. He called it a cordial. I insisted that he get some clothes for the stranger and we picked out an old suit I thought might fit. I took these out to the Spaniard but he was much displeased with them and said he was not accustomed to such garb. I told him it was that or nothing and the girl was coming so finally he put them on. He seemed to be about as spry as ordinary people, and his manner was very polite.
Euphemia got over her fright after awhile and came downstairs but she seemed quite shook up. After awhile the Spaniard tried to talk to her but of course she couldn’t understand until I translated for her. After awhile she seemed to like to hear what he said. His talk was quite high-flown, and after every few words he would put his hand on his chest and make a low bow. This seemed to suit Euphemia.
It was getting on towards evening and I was obliged to leave but I asked Euphemia to take care of him and I promised to bring a Spanish book so she could make out what he said, and I told him to stay here until I got back. He promised to do so and I went away.
When I told the professor about my glass man he smiled and smiled. He said the Spaniard must be a silica gel pseudomorph, and he was surprised and delighted he or it could talk Spanish, and when he said this he grinned like a Cheshire cat. I got a Spanish dictionary and phrase book at the college bookstore and went back next day. I found he was trying to explain the difference between ser and estar. It struck me that was a funny thing to do, but he seemed rather touchy, so I gave her the books and went back to college. I was very busy the rest of the term and couldn’t get away, but as soon as possible I went back. They were out riding the old man said, and he seemed rather put out.