; New York: Dodd & Mead.
This companionable book tells you how to travel over the Spanish
Peninsula by means of a slight knowledge of the Castilian tongue, a
bold infidelity to Murray's _Guide_, a cake of soap and some Liebig's
broth, and a habit of universal politeness. "Pardon me, my sister,"
said the author to a beggar-woman at Barcelona: "does not your worship
see that I am drawing?" "Ah, Dios!" she answered, "blind that I was!
worm that I am! So your worship draws? And I--I too am a lover of the
arts." On the other hand, a stiff-necked Englishman traveling from
Seville to Xeres sent his driver to dine in the kitchen of an inn on
the road. The driver, who in his heart thought that he would have been
doing great honor to a heretic by sitting at the same table with him,
concealed his indignation at the time, but in the middle of the road,
three or four leagues from Xeres, in a horrible desert full of bogs
and brambles, pushed the Englishman out of the carriage, and cried out
as he whipped on his horse, "My lord, you did not find me worthy to
sit at your table; and I, Don Jose Balbino Bustamente y Orozco, find
you too bad company to occupy a seat in my carriage. Good-night!"
Another story, of time-honored repetition, is here restored to what
may possibly have been its true parentage.
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