His grave manner almost made me laugh. Taking his hand in mine, I said:
"What am I to do with this, my friend?"
"Shake it," he replied. "We are countrymen."
We then shook hands very vigorously for some time in silence, while
his wife looked on with a smile and stirred the fat.
"Woman," he said, turning to her, "leave your grease till tomorrow.
Breakfast must be thought of. Is there any mutton in the house?"
"Half a sheep--only," she replied.
"That will do for one meal," said he. "Here, Teofilo, run and tell
Anselmo to catch two pullets--fat ones, mind. To be plucked at once.
You may look for half a dozen fresh eggs for your mother to put in the
stew. And, Felipe, go find Cosme and tell him to saddle the roan pony
to go to the store at once. Now, wife, what is wanted--rice, sugar,
vinegar, oil, raisins, pepper, saffron, salt, cloves, cummin seed,
wine, brandy--"
"Stop one moment," I cried. "If you think it necessary to get provisions
enough for an army to give me breakfast, I must tell you that I draw
the line at brandy. I never touch it--in this country."
He shook hands with me again.
"You are right," he said. "Always stick to the native drink, wherever
you are, even if it is black draught. Whisky in Scotland, in the Banda
Oriental rum--that's my rule."
The place was now in a great commotion, the children saddling ponies,
shouting in pursuit of fugitive chickens, and my energetic host ordering
his wife about.
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