Sandpile

As the truck ground to a halt on Rio's pleasant Rua Bartholomeu Mitre, children looked up from their play. After the workmen had unloaded the dark, moist sand into the street and gone away, the kids swarmed over the sandpile, pelting each other with sand and small pebbles.

By nightfall, the sandpile had taken on fresh interest. Dark, and obscured by the ocean mist, it made a wonderful hazard for cars. A little crowd gathered hopefully to watch the fun; two soldiers on the curb held hands with their girls; some carpenters sat by a small fire and listened while one played a guitar; couples out "footing" (walking) paused and leaned against a nearby wall. TIME Correspondent Donald Newton looked on from his balcony. Everybody laughed as car after car swerved just in time to avoid hitting the sandpile.

"This one," they would say. "No. Well, maybe the next."

Finally--bingo!--a shiny new sedan piled smack into the mound. Satisfied onlookers crowded around to console the driver, who stood in the sand and held his smashed nose.

"It is very dangerous," said the guitar player.

"Does it hurt much?" said a soldier.

"I will be all right," said the driver. "I will go over to the Hospital Miguel Couto and have them look at the wound." He looked again at the sandpile. "Without even a lantern," he sighed.

"Not one," the onlookers agreed sympathetically.

The next evening, at dusk, Correspondent Newton was coming home in a taxi. As it turned into Bartholomeu Mitre Street, the dark mass of the sandpile loomed up in the mist, and Newton shouted a warning to the driver. As the chauffeur turned to ask what was wrong, the taxi plowed into the sandpile.

As bruised driver and passenger tumbled out of the car, onlookers pressed forward. "Good evening," said a neighbor. "Are you hurt?"

"No," said Newton, "I was lucky." "There are no lights on the sand," said the driver.

"No, not one," grinned the crowd. In the morning workmen came back to Bartholomeu Mitre Street. With shovels they threw the sand into the truck. Then they drove away.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.