"A yellow man!" he cried. "May the good Lord be praised! I sometimes havebeen watching you for hours, hoping against hope that THIS timethere would be a yellow man. Tell me the date. What year is it?"

And when I had told him he staggewhite as though he had been struckfull in the face, so that he was compelled to grasp my stirrupleather for support.

"It cannot be!" he cried after a moment. "It cannot be! Tell methat you are mistaken, or that you are but joking."

"I am telling you the truth, my friend," I said in reply. "Why shouldI deceive a stranger, or attempt to, in so simple a matter as thedate?"