eyes, she looked
up and said mildly, "Thanks, many thanks, dear cousin, for your
kindness. I cannot dissemble with you; what would you have me do? I
could not _beat_ him in return; and, oh! save him from the arm of
my brothers!"--"What have you always done?"--"Borne his stripes, and
called for help upon St. Jago, St. Francis Xavier, St. Benedict, and
St. Nicholas!"--"And did you never invoke the three holy Maries?"--
"Never."--"Then that's what you ought to have done," returned Senor
Pedrillo, with the utmost gravity. "Now mind me,--call upon _them_
for aid next time your husband maltreats you."--"Alas!" sighed the
afflicted wife, "_that_ will most surely be to-night. I've not much
faith in your remedy, Pedro; but may be there's no harm in trying
it."--"Farewell, then, my poor, pretty, patient, black-bruised cousin,"
cried Pedrillo; "next time you see the _doctor_, let him know how his
remedy has sped;" and with a comical expression of countenance, half
melancholy, half mirthful, the "trusty and well-beloved cousin"
departed.
Late that night, Perez Donilla entered his own habitation as intoxicated
and belligerent as ever. "Where's my supper?"--"Here," said his wife,
trembling, as she placed before him a few heads of garlic, a piece of
salted trout, a little oil, and a crust of barley bread. "What's all
this, woman?" exclaimed Perez, in a voice of thunder; and with glaring
eyes and demoniacal fury he dashed the fish at her head, and the rest of
his supper upon the floor. "Wretch! how durst _you_ fatten upon olios
and ragouts, and set trash like _this_ before your _husband?_"--"My
dear," replied Juana, meekly, "I am starving; nothing have I tasted
since breakfast."--"Don't lie, you jade! Where's the wild-fowl and the
Bologna sausage sent you by that rogue, Gomez? Stolen were they from
the canon's kitchen, and you know it! And where's the skin of excellent
Calcavella, from the Caballero's overflowing vaults? Give it to me this
_instant_, you hussy, you vixen, you--"--"Indeed, _indeed_," cried the
unfortunate wife in deep anguish, "I take all the saints in heaven to
witness--."--"That, and that, and _that_," interrupted the furious
tyrant, lashing her severely, according to custom, with a thick thong of
leather, and now and then adding a blow with his fist; "let's see if
_that_ will bring me a supper fit for a Christian, and a draught of Don
Miguel's Calcavella!" Juana remembered Pedrillo's advice, and after
roaring out m
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