"I am known as Fragoso, at your service; and I am
still able to curl and cut your hair, to shave you, and to make you
comfortable according to all the rules of my art. I am a barber, so
to speak more truly, the most desperate of Figaros."
"And what made you think of----"
"What would you have, my gallant sir?" replied Fragoso, with a smile;
"a moment of despair, which I would have duly regretted had the
regrets been in another world! But eight hundred leagues of country
to traverse, and not a coin in my pouch, was not very comforting! I
had lost courage obviously."
To conclude, Fragoso had a good and pleasing figure, and as he
recovered it was evident that he was of a lively disposition. He was
one of those wandering barbers who travel on the banks of the Upper
Amazon, going from village to village, and putting the resources of
their art at the service of negroes, negresses, Indians and Indian
women, who appreciate them very much.
But poor Fragoso, abandoned and miserable, having eaten nothing for
forty hours, astray in the forest, had for an instant lost his head,
and we know the rest.
Pages:
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123