"
says poor Gronwy in one of the most affecting elegies ever written.
After a little farther conversation I bade the family farewell and
left the house. After going down the road a hundred yards I turned
back in order to ask permission to gather a leaf from one of the
sycamores. Seeing the man who had helped me in my conversation
with the old woman standing at the gate, I told him what I wanted,
whereupon he instantly tore down a handful of leaves and gave them
to me. Thrusting them into my coat-pocket I thanked him kindly and
departed.
Coming to the half-erected house, I again saw the man to whom I had
addressed myself for information. I stopped, and speaking Spanish
to him, asked how he had acquired the Spanish language.
"I have been in Chili, sir," said he in the same tongue, "and in
California, and in those places I learned Spanish."
"What did you go to Chili for?" said I; "I need not ask you on what
account you went to California."
"I went there as a mariner," said the man; "I sailed out of
Liverpool for Chili."
"And how is it," said I, "that being a mariner and sailing in a
Liverpool ship you do not speak English?"
"I speak English, senor," said the man, "perfectly well."
"Then how in the name of wonder," said I, speaking English, "came
you to answer me in Spanish? I am an Englishman thorough bred.
Pages:
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312