im, but
at last Diego said:

"Come on now, Lee. We're still some ways from my Aunt Dolores, and she
always goes to bed with the chickens."

Trudging on, over the rough, slippery stones, they at last turned up a
side street of poor habitations, most of them in sad want of soap and
water, as well as paint and whitewash, and about half-way up the block
came to an open door, at which sat a chocolate-colored, withered old
woman, who was smoking a very long, thin cigar.

Diego stepped up to her and said, in Spanish:

"Dear aunt, do you not know me?"

The old woman stared at him a moment with her dim eyes, as she took the
cigar from her mouth, and then she jumped up and exclaimed, in the same
language:

"It is Diego! my Diego!"

And with that she flung her arms about him, hugged and kissed him, and
talked at such a rate that all the neighbors came to see what had
happened. At last Diego got clear of her, and turned to Lee, saying:

"She says they heard that I had gone off to the ends of the earth with a
confounded Gringo Yankee, and I was gone so long she thought I must be
dead."

Then he turned to the old woman and continued:

"Here is a Yankee friend of mine, who is a good fellow. We have had hard
times, and I want you to let us sleep here to-night, and to-morrow we
will look for something to do. We have had enough to eat for to-day, and
so we only want shelter."

Old Dolores, Diego's aunt, was a washerwoman. She employed one or two
girls during the day, but they had now gone home, and she was alone
in the house; so she took the lads in and spread some sheets on
ironing-tables in a back room, which opened upon a little court, with
high stone walls, and there they lay down, and in spite of the numerous
curious smells, and of the hardness of their beds, were soon asleep.

CHAPTER VIII.

Next morning the old woman had them up early, for she wanted to use
their beds, and gave them some breakfast, consisting of very good
coffee, without milk, fried plantains, very nice white bread from the
baker's next door, and to each a little relish of salt bacon, which did
instead of butter.

It was evident that this repast was considered a great treat by both
Diego and his aunt. When they had finished, the latter said:

"Now, Diego, if you and your friend will take a basket of washed clothes
over into the city, to the hotel for which I work, you will do me a
favor."

"Why not?" answered Diego, who the