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Some afternoons doña Bernarda would take "the children" to her own orchards or to the wealthy holdings of don Matías. It was a sight worth seeing the kindly shrewdness with which she chaperoned the young couple, shouting with shocked alarm if they disappeared behind the orange-trees for a moment or two in their frolics.
On that date José de San Martin arrived in Buenos Aires in the British frigate George Canning. With him came Carlos Alvear and Matias Zapiola, whose names were likewise destined to become famous in the annals of the Republic. On their arrival there was established in Buenos Aires a branch of the now important secret society originally founded in London, the "Gran Reunion Americana."
She was holding a child upon her knees, and talking with a tiny, wretched, sickly creature who looked to Rafael like the orchard-woman they had met at the hermitage. "Well, what do you think of my plan?" don Matias asked. "Excellent, magnificent, and well worthy of a man like you, who knows the question from top to bottom. We'll discuss the matter thoroughly when I return to the Cortes."
These pieces of fish were put in large wide wooden pails, the animals were called, and they devoured the contents with great avidity. This amazed me greatly. Just think of cattle feeding on raw fish! One day found me comfortably settled in a gamme which belonged to Matias Laiti. The chief meal was of reindeer meat and fish, a boiled head of fresh cod.
His life had been a muddy, monotonous stream, with neither brilliancy nor beauty in its waters, lazily meandering along, like the Júcar in winter. As he looked back over his career as a "personage," he could have summed it up in three words: he had married. Remedios was his wife. Don Matias was his father-in-law. He was wealthy.
Then, plunging her two hands into a mass of corn, she removed a handful of it dripping with muddy yellowish water. "I've none at all; you'd better go to Dolores, she's always got herbs, you know." "But Dolores went to Cofradia last night. I don't know, but they say they came to fetch her to help Uncle Matias' girl who's big with child." "You don't say, Panchita?"
If we don't get any rain before, there's a splendid harbour on the southernmost side of the Gulf of Saint Matias, hereaway on our starboard-bow, somewheres about two or three days' sail to the south'ard of Buenos Ayres, and we can fill up our water there. I've been into the place once, and a fine snug anchorage it is."
"I think," replied the unabashed object of the jest, "that it was a great honor for me, who was then a beardless boy, to be treated as a rival by so able an artist." Matias de Torres, a Spanish painter, affected the style of Caravaggio. His compositions were half veiled in thick impenetrable shadows, which concealed the design, and sometimes left the subject a mystery.
It seemed as though he could still see don Ramón stopping on his big horse in front of his humble farmhouse and, with the air of a grand lord, leaving orders for what don Matías was to do in the coming elections.
Being a devotee of the life of pleasure, Marti died three or four years after the business had been established, and Don Matias continued his gallinaceous evolutions until he was utterly ruined, and had pawned everything he possessed, remaining at last with the bakery as his only means of support. He succeeded in entangling and ruining that, too, before he died.
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