when i began to listen, it was a surprise to find that the subject of conversation was no longer the favourite one of horse-flesh, which had held undisputed sway the whole evening. uncle anselmo was just now expatiating on the merits of gin, a beverage for which he confessed to a special liking.

“gin is, without doubt,” said he, “the flower of all strong drinks. i have always maintained that it is incomparable. and for this reason i always keep a little of it in the house in a stone bottle; for, when i have taken my maté in the morning, and, after it, one or two or three or four sips of gin, i saddle my horse and go out with a tranquil stomach, feeling at peace with the whole world.

“well, sirs, it happened that on the morning in question, i noticed that there was very little gin left in the bottle; for, though i could not see how much it contained, owing to its being of stone and not of glass, i judged from the manner in which i had to tip it upwards when pouring it out. in order to remember that i had to bring home some with me that day i tied a knot in my handkerchief; then, mounting my horse, i rode out towards the side on which the sun sets, little expecting that anything unusual was going to happen to me that day. but thus it often is; for no man, however learned he may be and able to read the almanac, can tell what a day will bring forth.”

anselmo was so outrageously prosy, i felt strongly inclined to go to bed to dream of beautiful margarita; but politeness forbade, and i was also somewhat curious to hear what extraordinary thing had happened to him on that very eventful day.

“it fortunately happened,” continued anselmo, “that i had that morning saddled the best of my cream-noses; for on that horse i could say without fear of contradiction, i am on horseback and not on foot. i called him chingolo, a name which manuel, also called the fox, gave him, because he was a young horse of promise, able to fly with his rider. manuel had nine horses—cream-noses every one—and how from being manuel's they came to be mine i will tell you. he, poor man, had just lost all his money at cards—perhaps the money he lost was not much, but how he came to have any was a mystery to many. to me, however, it was no mystery, and when my cattle were slaughtered and had their hides stripped off by night, perhaps i could have gone to justice—feeling like a blind man for something in the wrong place—and led her in the direction of the offender's house; but when one has it in his power to speak, knowing at the same time that his words will fall like a thunderbolt out of a blue sky upon a neighbour's dwelling, consuming it to ashes and killing all within it, why, sirs, in such a case the good christian prefers to hold his peace. for what has one man more than another that he should put himself in the place of providence? we are all of flesh. true, some of us are only dog's flesh, fit for nothing; but to all of us the lash is painful, and where it rains blood will sprout. this, i say; but, remember, i say not that manuel the fox robbed me—for i would sully no man's reputation, even a robber's, or have anyone suffer on my account.

“well, sirs, to go back to what i was saying, manuel lost everything; then his wife fell ill with fever; and what was there left for him but to turn his horses into money? in this way it came about that i bought the cream-noses and paid him fifty dollars for them. true, the horses were young and sound; nevertheless, it was a great price, and i paid it not without first weighing the matter well in my own mind. for in things of this nature if a person makes not his reckoning beforehand, where, let me ask, sirs, will he find himself at the year's end? the devil will take him with all the cattle he inherited from his fathers, or got together by his own proper abilities and industry.

“for you see the thing is this. i have a poor head for figures; all other kinds of knowledge come easy to me, but how to calculate readily has never yet found an entrance into my head. at the same time, whenever i find it impossible to make out my accounts, or settle what to do, i have only to take the matter to bed with me and lie awake thinking it over. for when i do that, i rise next morning feeling free and refreshed, like a man that has just eaten a water-melon; for what i have to do and how it is to be done is all as plain to my sight as this maté-cup i hold in my hand.

“in this difficulty i therefore resolved to take the subject of the horses to bed with me, and to say, 'here i have you and you shall not escape from me.' but about supper-time manuel came in to molest me, and sat in the kitchen with a sad face, like a prisoner under sentence of death.

“'if providence is angry against the entire human race,' said he, 'and is anxious to make an example, i know not for what reason so harmless and obscure a person as i am should have been selected.'

“'what would you have, manuel?' i replied. 'wise men tell us that providence sends us misfortunes for our good.'

“'true, i agree with you,' he said. 'it is not for me to doubt it, for what can be said of that soldier who finds fault with the measures of his commander? but you know, anselmo, the man i am, and it is bitter that these troubles should fall on one who has never offended except in being always poor.'

“the vulture,' said i, 'ever preys on the weak and ailing.'

“'first i lose everything,' he continued, 'then this woman must fall ill of a calenture; and now i am forced to believe that even my credit is gone, since i cannot borrow the money i require. those who knew me best have suddenly become strangers.'

“'when a man is down,' said i, 'the very dogs will scratch up the dust against him.'

“'true,' said manuel; 'and since these calamities fell on me, what has become of the friendships that were so many? for nothing has a worse smell, or stinks more, than poverty, so that all men when they behold it cover up their faces or fly from such a pestilence.'

“'you speak the truth, manuel,' i returned; 'but say not all men, for who knows—there being so many souls in the world—whether you may not be doing injustice to someone.'

“'i say it not of you,' he replied, 'on the contrary, if any person has had compassion on me it is you; and this i say, not in your presence only, but publicly proclaim it to all men.'

“words only were these. 'and now,' he continued 'my cards oblige me to part with my horses for money; therefore i come this evening to learn your decision.'

“'manuel,' said i, 'i am a man of few words, as you know, and straightforward, therefore you need not have used compliments, and before saying this to have said so many things; for in this you do not treat me as a friend.'

“'you say well,' he replied; 'but i love not to dismount before checking my horse and taking my toes from the stirrups.'

“'that is only as it should be,' said i; 'nevertheless, when you come to a friend's house, you need not alight at such a distance from the gate.'

“'for what you say, i thank you,' he answered. 'my faults are more numerous than the spots on the wild cat, but not amongst them is precipitancy.'

“'that is what i like,' said i; 'for i do not love to go about like a drunk man embracing strangers. but our acquaintance is not of yesterday, for we have looked into and know each other, even to the bowels and to the marrow in the bones. why, then, should we meet as strangers, since we have never had a difference, or any occasion to speak ill of each other?'

“'and how should we speak ill,' replied manuel, 'since it has never entered into either of us, even in a dream, to do the other an injury? some there are, who, loving me badly, would blow up your head like a bladder with lies if they could, laying i know not what things to my charge, when—heaven knows—they themselves are perhaps the authors of all they so readily blame me for.'

“'if you speak,' said i, 'of the cattle i have lost, trouble not yourself about such trifles; for if those who speak evil of you, only because they themselves are evil, were listening, they might say, this man begins to defend himself when no one has so much as thought of drawing against him.'

“'true, there is nothing they will not say of me,' said manuel; 'therefore i am dumb, for nothing is to be gained by speaking. they have already judged me, and no man wishes to be made a liar.'

“'as for me,' i said, 'i never doubted you, knowing you to be a man, honest, sober, and diligent. if in anything you had given offence i should have told you of it, so great is my frankness towards all men.'

“'all that you tell me i firmly believe,' said he, 'for i know that you are not one that wears a mask like others. therefore, relying on your great openness in all things, i come to you about these horses; for i love not dealing with those who shake you out a whole bushel of chaff for every grain of corn.'

“'but, manuel,' said i, 'you know that i am not made of gold, and that the mines of peru were not left to me for an inheritance. you ask a high price for your horses.'

“'i do not deny it,' he replied. 'but you are not one to stop your ears against reason and poverty when they speak. my horses are my only wealth and happiness, and i have no glory but them.'

“'frankly, then,' i answered, 'to-morrow i will tell you yes or no.'

“'let it be as you say; but, friend, if you will close with me tonight i will abate something from the price.'

“'if you wish to abate anything,' said i, 'let it be to-morrow, for i have accounts to make up to-night and a thousand things to think of.'

“after that manuel got on to his horse and rode away. it was black and rainy, but he had never needed moon or lantern to find what he sought by night, whether his own house, or a fat cow—also his own, perhaps.

“then i went to bed. the first question i asked myself, when i had blown out the candle, was, are there fat wethers enough in my flock to pay for the cream-noses? then i asked, how many fat wethers will it take at the price don sebastian—a miserly cheat be it said in passing—offers me a head for them to make up the amount i require?

“that was the question; but, you see, friends, i could not answer it. at length, about midnight, i resolved to light the candle and get an ear of maize; for by putting the grains into small heaps, each heap the price of a wether, then counting the whole, i could get to know what i wanted.

“the idea was good. i was feeling under my pillow for the matches to strike a light when i suddenly remembered that all the grain had been given to the poultry. no matter, said i to myself, i have been spared the trouble of getting out of bed for nothing. why, it was only yesterday, said i, still thinking about the maize, that pascuala, the cook, said to me when she put my dinner before me, 'master, when are you going to buy some grain for the fowls? how can you expect the soup to be good when there is not even an egg to put in it? then there is the black cock with the twisted toe—one of the second brood the spotted hen raised last summer, though the foxes carried off no less than three hens from the very bushes where she was sitting—he has been going round with drooping wings all day, so that i verily believe he is going to have the pip. and if any epidemic comes amongst the fowls as there was in neighbour gumesinda's the year before last, you may be sure it will only be for want of corn. and the strangest thing is, and it is quite true, though you may doubt it, for neighbour gumesinda told me only yesterday when she came to ask me for some parsley, because, as you know very well, her own was all rooted up when the pigs broke into her garden last october; well, sir, she says the epidemic which swept off twenty-seven of her best fowls in one week began by a black cock with a broken toe, just like ours, beginning to droop its wings as if it had the pip.'

“'may all the demons take this woman!' i cried, throwing down the spoon i had been using, 'with her chatter about eggs and pip and neighbour gumesinda, and i know not what besides! do you think i have nothing to do but to gallop about the country looking for maize, when it is not to be had for its weight in gold at this season, and all because a sickly spotted hen is likely to have the pip?'

“'i have said no such thing,' retorted pascuala, raising her voice as women do. 'either you are not paying proper attention to what i am telling you, or you pretend not to understand me. for i never said the spotted hen was likely to have the pip; and if she is the fattest fowl in all this neighbourhood you may thank me, after the virgin, for it, as neighbour gumesinda often says, for i never fail to give her chopped meat three times a day; and that is why she is never out of the kitchen, so that even the cats are afraid to come into the house, for she flies like a fury into their faces. but you are always laying hold of my words by the heels; and if i said anything at all about pip, it was not the spotted hen, but the black cock with the twisted toe, i said was likely to have it.'

“'to the devil with your cock and your hen!' i shouted, rising in haste from my chair, for my patience was all gone and the woman was driving me crazy with her story of a twisted toe and what neighbour gumesinda said. 'and may all the curses fall on that same woman, who is always full as a gazette of her neighbours' affairs! i know well what the parsley is she comes to gather in my garden. it is not enough that she goes about the country giving importance to the couplets i sang to montenegro's daughter, when i danced with her at cousin teodoro's dance after the cattle-marking, when, heaven knows, i never cared the blue end of a finger-nail for that girl. but things have now come to a pretty pass when even a chicken with a broken toe cannot be indisposed in my house without neighbour gumesinda thrusting her beak into the matter!'

“such anger did i feel at pascuala when i remembered these things and other things besides, for there is no end to that woman's tongue, that i could have thrown the dish of meat at her head.

“just then, while occupied with these thoughts, i fell asleep. next morning i got up, and without beating my head any more i bought the horses and paid manuel his price. for there is in me this excellent gift, when i am puzzled in mind and in doubt about anything, night makes everything plain to me, and i rise refreshed and with my determination formed.”

here ended anselmo's story, without one word about those marvellous matters he had set out to tell. they had all been clean forgotten. he began to make a cigarette, and, fearing that he was about to launch forth on some fresh subject, i hastily bade good night and retreated to my bed.