“And see what a dandy he has made of himself,” mocked Hilario, who resented, in behalf of his own ginger-colored blouse and cowhide sandals, Pedrillo’s new finery.
“Dress a toad and it looks well,” taunted Tenorio, so long and lean and bony that Pilarica quietly held up her doll to get a good view of him.
“If it only had wings, the sheep would be the best bird yet,” put in Bastiano, whose voice was not merely gruff, as all those Galician voices were, but surly, too.
Tia Marta looked to see Pedrillo take vengeance for these insults, but when the flat-nosed little fellow only laughed good-humoredly, her wrath broke loose.
“The lion is not so brave as they tell us,” she snapped, squinting worse than ever because of the smoke.
And at once the rough jests of the muleteers, diverted from Pedrillo, were brought to bear on her.
“But here is a woman with a temper hot enough to light two candles at.”
“A goose’s quill hurts more than a lion’s claw.”
And still Pedrillo stood sheepishly smiling, even when Tia Marta rounded on him and on them all with the hated _copla_:
“A Galician is like the mule That he prods with his stick, --Only duller than the mule Because he will not kick.”
A growl went up from the benches, but Uncle Manuel interposed:
“And what wonder that her patience has lost the stirrup? Tired and hungry, and then baited like a bull by your rusty wits! Out to the courtyard with all of you and help Pedrillo curry the beasts.”
But Tia Marta dropped scalding tears of vexation into her bowl of _puchero_, though that delectable mixture of boiled meat, chickpeas and all manner of garden stuff, was already quite hot enough with red pepper and garlic.
Uncle Manuel, having seen to it that the food was prompt and plentiful, did not speak to any of them as they ate, but busied himself with adding up columns of figures in a much-worn account book that he drew from an inner pocket. When they had finished, however, he took from the inn keeper’s hand a little iron lamp, shaped like a boat, and helped Grandfather up the ladder that led to the loft. There he conducted them to two small rooms, roughly boarded off, with a low partition between them. Hanging the lamp by its ring from a nail, he opened the beds to make sure that the coarse sheets were fresh, and left them with a grave “Sleep in peace.”