"Hold on a moment, I'm coming! Ah, good evening! Are you seeking directions, my good sir?"

"No. I've come to see you, Evan Bach."

"You know my name! Well, you have the advantage on me, but I'm always glad to make a new acquaintance. Come in! Have a seat here by the fire. Would you like a drink?"

"No. I shan't be long. I have several calls to make in this neighborhood."

"You know the people hereabouts then?"

"Indeed I do."

"How odd. I'd swear I've never seen you before."

"You haven't."

"Well then, who are you, if I may be so bold?"

"Death."

"Ah. I would have expected rather a different appearance—"

"Cloak and scythe, perhaps? Like this?"

"Eeee! Farmer's tweeds will do instead, if you please."

"No matter. I am in a hurry, and you must come with me."

"Isn't it a bit soon? I'm only sixty, and able to do a good many things before I'm eighty!"

"That may be, but I have set my mind on having a man of your age tonight."

"There's Billy James down in Newton. He's just gone sixty. And now I do come to think of it, Billy'll be glad to go. He's had rheumaticks since he was forty."

"No. I want a healthy man."

"Well, to be sure, I can tell you of a fellow sound in wind and limb, just the thing for you. Dewi Mawr of Pyle. He can walk forty miles without feeling tired. Come now, isn't that likely to suit? No? There are plenty riper than me down this way. There's Ned of Merthyr Mawr, and Jack o'Connelly, and old Uncle Dick o' Newton, and all of 'em over eighty."

"Too old for me just now."

"Supposing I was to give you all my savings, a big lump, too. Nearly three thousand pounds!"

"Money is of no use to me. But for once I will break my rule, if you are prepared to make a bargain with me."

"Dear Anwyl, I will do anything you like!"

"You must take a new path in life, Miser Evan. My terms are these: You must support your old aunt Molly, who's barely surviving on a pittance from the parish. You must give a new fishing boat to your nephew who is soon to be married. And you must give more to the poorbox and the collections in the parish church."

"To be sure, yes indeed, all you say!"

"If you fail in these things, I shall come for you."

"Otherwise I shall live forever?"

"Nay, but you shall see your ninety-ninth year."

* * *

"Hold on a moment, I'm coming! Oh. It's you."

"Good evening, Evan Bach. Your time has come."

"But I'm only ninety-three! I have six more years!"

"You haven't kept your part of the bargain."

"I did for a good long while! I took in Aunt Molly, but she's dead now, surely you know that. And my nephew has a fortune of his own. He hasn't needed help from me for five-and-ten years now!"

"What about the poorbox and the collections plate?"

"Well, ah, you see, once I turned ninety it seemed rather frivolous—"

"Come, Miser Evan. He who values hoarded wealth more than life loses both."

folktale from Glamorgan, Wales; popular in the early 1800's

The dialogue lines in the heart of this story came straight from the folktale, but the intro (first 13 lines) and ending (last 8 lines) are my own. :)