Miscellany: Poor Jose

A pleasanter lunatic than José Marinat perhaps never lived. Years have passed since he first won the hearts of shrewd peasants in the suburbs of Tarragona by three peculiarities. He would work without pay. He loved to tell stories to children. And to toss "Poor José" an old guitar was the prelude to an evening of wild, haunting melody.

Recently ten small tots ran prattling to parents, begged permission to go into the woods with "Uncle José" who had promised to shoot pigeons and then tell stories. "You may go with José," smiled...

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