I can only relate a little incident which happened to me in my own
country before I left it. It is trivial, perhaps, but will lead me to
tell you something about London--that great city you have all heard
of."
"Yes, we have heard of London; it is in England, I believe. Tell us
your story about London," said Blas encouragingly.
"I was very young--only fourteen years old," I continued, flattering
myself that my modest introduction had not been ineffective, "when one
evening I came to London from my home. It was in January, in the middle
of winter, and the whole country was white with snow."
"Pardon me, Captain," said Blas, "but you have got the cucumber by the
wrong end. We say that January is in summer."
"Not in my country, where the seasons are reversed," I said.
"When I rose next morning it was dark as night, for a black fog had
fallen upon the city."
"A black fog!" exclaimed Lechuza.
"Yes, a black fog that would last all days and make it darker than
night, for though the lamps were lighted in the streets they gave no
light."
"Demons!" exclaimed Rivarola; "there is no water in the bucket. I must
go to the well for some or we shall have none to drink in the night."
"You might wait till I finish," I said.
"No, no, Captain," he returned. "Go on with your story; we must not
be without water." And, taking up the bucket, he trudged off.
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