et-house stood on a patch of
short-trimmed grass, under the vivid green foliage of a bread-fruit
tree.

Thither one morning the venders leisurely convened, bringing their
wares with them. A porch or platform six feet wide encircled the
building, shaded from the mid-morning sun by the projecting,
grass-thatched roof. Upon this platform the venders were wont to
display their goods--newly-killed beef, fish, crabs, fruit of the
country, cassava, eggs, _dulces_ and high, tottering stacks of native
tortillas as large around as the sombrero of a Spanish grandee.

But on this morning they whose stations lay on the seaward side of
the market-house, instead of spreading their merchandise formed
themselves into a softly jabbering and gesticulating group. For
there upon their space of the platform was sprawled, asleep, the
unbeautiful figure of "Beelzebub" Blythe. He lay upon a ragged strip
of cocoa matting, more than ever a fallen angel in appearance. His
suit of coarse flax, soiled, bursting at the seams, crumpled into
a thousand diversified wrinkles and creases, inclosed him absurdly,
like the garb of some effigy that had been stuffed in sport and
thrown there after indignity had been wrought upon it. But firmly
upon the high bridge of his nose reposed his gold-rimmed glasses, the
surviving badge of his ancient glory.

The sun's rays, reflecting quiveringly from the rippling sea upon his
face, and the voices of the market-men woke "Beelzebub" Blythe. He
sat up, blinking, and leaned his back against the wall of the market.
Drawing a blighted silk handkerchief from his pocket, he assiduously
rubbed and burnished his glasses. And while doing this he became
aware that his bedroom had been invaded, and that polite brown and
yellow men were beseeching him to vacate in favour of their market
stuff.

If the senor would have the goodness--a thousand pardons for bringing
to him molestation--but soon would come the _compradores_ for the
day's provisions--surely they had ten thousand regrets at disturbing
him!

In this manner they expanded to him the intimation that he must clear
out and cease to clog the wheels of trade.

Blythe stepped from the platform with the air of a prince leaving
his canopied couch. He never quite lost that air, even at the lowest
point of his fall. It is clear that the college of good breeding does
not necessarily maintain a chair of morals within its walls.

Blythe shook out his wry clothing, and moved s