"Behold! and in seven years, it is as you see it there on the rafts ready for market. They use the twigs for making Osier baskets. But _hace calor_[13] let us go to the cool shady _patio_ of the hotel and there I will tell you a story of some charcoal burners until the Uncle comes."
But the Colonel reached the hotel before they did, for Francisco must stop to see this thing and that as they sauntered along. The mid-day heat meant little to him while so much of novelty challenged his attention. José was always ready to answer his questions, and he frequently drew the boy's notice to something that would escape any one but a keen observer, and this the Indian was.
The sun was almost in midheaven, and the daily _siesta_ was beginning in some parts of the city. Workshops were being closed, and under every tree some cart driver had drawn up his horse and stretched himself on the grass under its shade; even the beggars were curled up on the church steps fast asleep.
"Why do some of those ragged beggars wear metal badges, José?"
"They are licensed beggars, Señorito. The city has authorized them to beg, and when you help them you may know you are helping no rogues."
Francisco drew his nose up into a prolonged sniff. "I believe I'm hungry, José. What smells so good?"
"Step here on to this side street and I'll show you."
The street was being torn up to be repaved, and the _peon_ workingmen at this noon interval of rest were eating their _almuerzo_. Gathered in little groups, they sat around something that was cooking and emitting odours of stewing meat, potatoes and onions.
"But how are they cooking here in the street?"
"Go closer and you can see," replied José.
Francisco walked to the curb, and looking over their backs into the middle of one circle he saw--the stew cooking in a shovel.
"They buy these things at the market and use their street shovels for stewpans, as you see."
"Ugh! I hope they wash them first," laughed Francisco.
They were now passing the market, an enormous affair covering the best of a large block. But the scene was no longer animated for the chattering and bargaining were beginning to cease; and the merchants, themselves, were nodding over their wares.
Along the curbing were piles of merchandise; here, a stack of peaches, pears, apricots, figs, nectarines, grapes, and plums; there, an array of earthen ware, in curious shapes; here, a stock of readymade clothing, aprons, trousers, _ponchos_[14] and shoes. The vegetables were heaped high in piles; tomatoes, beans, lettuce, cardon, celery, potatoes, cucumbers, and onions in long ropes, their stems so plaited together with straw that they can be sold by the yard; or, in that country's measure, a _metro_.[15]