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The government was paying like thirty dollars for deserters, and in case we run across them, we figured it would pay expenses to bring them out. These deserters were distinguishable wherever they went by the size of their horses; besides, they had two fine big American mules for packs. They were marked right for that country. Everything about them was muy grande.
"No muy malo," she said in the few Spanish words which she could summon for the occasion from those she had picked up from the desert people. "Muy bueno manana. And now get me some warm water . . . agua caliente. Mr. Norton, if you will open my instrument case . . . no; the other one.
He immediately sought him out in the apartments he occupied in the chateau, and communicated to him the result of the consultation respecting the king's illness. The comte de Muy was one of those rare characters reserved by Providence for the happiness of a state, when kings are wise enough to employ them.
"You'll go to Red muy pronto, and tell him he's got thirty-six hours to get across the line. He and you will go to Sonora, and you'll stay there. We've got you dead to rights. Show up in this country again, and you'll both go to Yuma. Understand?" Tom understood well enough. He writhed under it, but he was up against the need of surrender.
But teach me a Spanish phrase of endearment. All our 'darlings' and 'dearests' are too flat for California." "Bueno; I teach you. Say after me: Mi muy querida prima. That is very sweet. Say." "Mi muy " "Querida prima." "Que What is it in English?" "My very darling first. It no sound so pretty in English." "It does very well.
It is these qualities which give so much popularity to her daughter, the Infanta Isabel, who, like her mother, is above all things muy Española. That the Spanish woman is passionate, goes without saying; one only has to watch the quick flash of her eye "throwing out sparks," as their own expression may be translated to be aware of that.
Since when have I been friend to you and not lover, Juanita? I know well for how long since this gringo with the white face crossed your trail." Suddenly she flung away from him. "Muy bien! You shall think as you please. Adios, my friend with the head of a donkey! Adios, icabron!" She was gone, light as the wind, flying with swift feet down the trail to the house.
Before them a black bull was calmly walking. The moment the old man saw us, he waved his arms and cried out, in great excitement, "Toro, muy bravo!"
"This picture, my children, muy linda e maravillosa," Father Roman would say to some of his flock, "which you behold here through the munificence of the wife of our Senor Administrador, has been painted in Europe, a country of saints and miracles, and much greater than our Costaguana." And he would take a pinch of snuff with unction.
In the train I shared a bench with a dignified old Mexican of the country regions, who at length lost his reserve sufficiently to tell me of the "muy amigo gringo" whose picture he still had on the wall of his house since the day twenty-seven years ago when my compatriot had stopped with him on a tour of his native State, carrying a small pack of merchandise which gave him the entree into all houses, but which he purposely held at so high a price that none would buy.
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