"
"You speak of Dona Petrona's side-saddle, Antonio?" said the little
wife. "She would sell it for what it cost--perhaps for eight dollars.
Ah, pumpkin-head, why did you not think to make all that profit? Then
I could have bought slippers and a thousand things."
"You are never satisfied, Cleta," he returned. "Have you not got
slippers to your feet?"
She tossed up a pretty foot and displayed it cased in rather a shabby
little slipper. Then, with a laugh, she kicked it off towards him.
"There," she exclaimed, "put it in your bosom and keep it--something
precious! And some day when you go to Montevideo, and wish to appear
very grand before all the town, wear it on your great toe."
"Who expects reason from a woman?" said Antonio, shrugging his
shoulders.
"Reason! you have no more brains than a Muscovy duck, Antonio. You
might have made this profit, but you never can make money like other
men, and therefore you will always be poorer than the spiders. I have
said this before very often, and only hope you will not forget it, for
in future I intend to speak of other things."
"Where would I have got the ten dollars to pay Petrona for the saddle?"
he retorted, losing his temper.
"My friend," I said, "if the saddle can be had, it is only just that
you should have the profit. Take ten dollars, and if you buy it for
me I will pay you two more.
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