The Old Ones [Part 1]

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I have never liked the eminent. They never took place in my family. I was not one myself and I did not want to be one of them.

I remember I knew stories of all sorts about those kind of individuals, who were not the best students at all. In fact they were quite bad. My son Leslie always failed his exams. Since then I have been telling stories about these people who later on in life had become noteworthy. Bishops, archbishops, ministers and ensigns.

The human vanity always goes high and it will never go low, because it always finds those ropes to grasp that keeps it up high.

So Leslie have become an eminent. It is a big thing. Said his mother. We have to take some steps towards to it.

What do you mean? I asked.

Pleasure for pleasure. We have to think about something that would make Leslie happy.

I had my brilliant idea to have a pair of long trousers sewn for him.

My wife first told me off. Are you crazy?

When I explained her that Leslie has grown up and big enough to wear long trousers, she started to drop her tears.

She got heartbroken to think that her little son is a big boy from now on.

No no I will throw those trousers into the stove. I cannot let a bad Taylor take my little boy from me.

I was laughing. Tut! Tut! Why would Leslie be taken away from us by that. Those trousers will be long torn before he goes away.

A few days later after Leslie's successful exam we travelled to Marienbed. As we were walking on Ferdinand street, I glimpsed an interesting fabric in one of the shop window.

It was that good old grey baize. I remember people wore this kind of fabric in my childhood. I have never seen it since. That has been for about thirty years.

Lee look! We called Leslie like this.

I found your fabric here. This is exactly what I wore when I was at your age. I said perked up. Come on in here and have your trousers sewn.

My son's eyes have brightened up from the pleasure, but fought shy of having them. Mum would be angry. He said a little apprehensively.

I managed to get him into the shop eventually. The door was dilapidated which opened hardly and creakingly. As we entered, a bell made a big tinkling noise followed by dog barking.

We were in, looked around and we could not find any clue about profession of tailoring. A very old oak furniture was against the wall and an iron was on the top of a green tile stove. Not many customers come here. I noted quietly.

On the other side of the place a snow white haired old antediluvian was sitting in the corner. His leg was covered with a blanket. He was nibbling some buttered bread. He could not chew it he was rather sucking it. At his feet there was a dog yapping at us, but he could not take his eyes off the bread.

To be continued...