The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER XII 67
The gleam of the silver caused the grave-digger to consider, and staring toward the heap of bones he said,
"Isn't it there? No? Then I don't know where it is."
"Don't you know? When those who owe me pay me, I'll give you more," continued the old man. "It was the
skull of my wife, so if you find it for me--"
"Isn't it there? Then I don't know! But if you wish, I can give you another."
"You're like the grave you're digging," apostrophized the old man nervously. "You don't know the value of
what you lose. For whom is that grave?"
"How should I know?" replied the other in bad humor.
"For a corpse!"
"Like the grave, like the grave!" repeated the old man with a dry smile. "You don't know what you throw
away nor what you receive! Dig, dig on!" And he turned away in the direction of the gate.
Meanwhile, the grave-digger had completed his task, attested by the two mounds of fresh red earth at the sides
of the grave. He took some buyo from his salakot and began to chew it while he stared stupidly at what was
going on around him.