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hem all, determined to find out which he might like best--a piece of knowledge that he said would serve him upon some future occasion. The Don seemed to take a pleasure in helping the major, whom he honoured by the title of "Senor Coronel." "_Puchero_, Senor Coronel?" "Thank you, sir," grunted the major, and tried the puchero. "Allow me to help you to a spoonful of _mole_." "With pleasure, Don Cosme." The _mole_ suddenly disappeared down the major's capacious throat. "Try some of this _chile relleno_." "By all means," answered the major. "Ah, by Jove! hot as fire!--whew!" "_Pica! Pica_!" answered Don Cosme, pointing to his thorax, and smiling at the wry faces the major was making. "Wash it down, Senor, with a glass of this claret--or here, Pepe! Is the Johannisberg cool yet? Bring it in, then. Perhaps you prefer champagne, Senores?" "Thank you; do not trouble yourself, Don Cosme." "No trouble, Capitan--bring champagne. Here, Senor Coronel, try the _guisado de pato_." "Thank you," stammered the major; "you are very kind. Curse the thing! how it burns!" "Do you think he understands English?" inquired Clayey of me in a whisper. "I should think not," I replied. "Well, then, I wish to say aloud that this old chap's a superb old gent. What say you, Major? Don't you wish we had him on the lines?" "I wish his kitchen were a little nearer the lines," replied the other, with a wink. "Senor Coronel, permit me--" "What is it, my dear Don?" inquired the major. "_Pasteles de Moctezuma_." "Oh, certainly. I say, lads, I don't know what the plague I'm eating-- it's not bad to take, though." "Senor Coronel, allow me to help you to a _guana_ steak." "A guana steak!" echoed the major, in some surprise. "_Si, Senor_," replied Don Cosme, holding the steak on his fork. "A guana steak! Do you think, lads, he means the ugly things we saw at Lobos." "To be sure--why not?" "Then, by Jove, I'm through! I can't go lizards. Thank you, my dear Don Cosme; I believe I have dined." "Try this; it is very tender, I assure you," insisted Don Cosme. "Come, try it, Major, and report," cried Clayey. "Good--you're like the apothecary that poisoned his dog to try the effect of his nostrums. Well,"--with an oath--"here goes! It can't be very bad, seeing how our friend gets it down. Delicious, by Jupiter! tender as chicken--good, good!"--and amidst sundry similar ejaculations the m
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