Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 8, 2025
And so it goes! How many poor devils there are in the world! Why shouldn't a fellow do a little something for one of them now and then! And the Rector's hand felt at a lump in the end of his sash where he had knotted a few silver coins along with a copper or two. "Pascualo!" came the call. It was a soft, timid, hesitating voice. "Is that you, Pascualo?" "Cristo! What a mistake!
Seventy years of sailoring were stuffed into that sun-dried crackling hide of his, whence they issued, smelling to heaven of strong tobacco, in the form of practical suggestions and maritime prophecy. Pascualo had taken him on, not so much for the help his aged arms could give, as for the exact knowledge he had of the coast thereabouts.
But, after all, what do I care?... I don't want to be quarreling all the time, and be made the talk of half Spain. All those stories about me and Tonet are lies of people who don't know how else to make trouble in a good family.... Tonet went with me before Pascualo and I were married. Well, was it wrong to marry his brother? Bosh! Was I the first to do a thing like that?
If you didn't believe it, ask don Santiago. But he knew one thing, that the only Christ who would bring the Mayflower through that fix was Pascualo el Retor, and he might even do the trick if the damned boat minded her helm! The proximity of shoal water was now quite apparent on the vessel. The combers had stopped coming in huge but fairly regular mountains from astern.
But Pascualo suddenly, with a gesture of disdain, seemed to come out of his abstraction; and it was evident he felt ashamed at having lost hold on his tongue so far, in a moment of baseless alarm. He had had enough of Roseta, however. And, in fact, they could separate there.
Pascualo was on his way home from an afternoon in Valencia; but on reaching the Glorieta, he stopped in front of the Old Customs House. It was six o'clock. The sun was tinting the enormous front of the building an orange gold, softening the colors of the greenish black smudge that the rain had left on the mansard windows.
And Pascualo, in truth, was the honor of the family, the boy whose hard work had redeemed her lost station, her lost importance, in that community. Her tears now were not of sorrow only but of remorse. She had never loved the boy enough, not half so much as he deserved. Her affection was overflowing now she must make up for all the past.
In a conspicuous position on deck, and standing up full height to advertise the fact that he was there, Tonet was in full view at his feet the white pack that had just been having such a dance of it through the dark streets of the Cabañal. "Hello, Pascualo!" he called, the moment he spied his brother, at much pains apparently to start a conversation and dispel any suspicion the Rector might have.
There was a scowl in that sky! Crazy to think of going out! And just their luck! Of course, it had to come then, when the fish were as thick as fleas outside, and you could pick them up with your hands! But after all, a man's hide is of more account than a dollar! They all agreed. Dirty weather ahead! Nothing to do but stick to cover. But not so Pascualo. "Stick to cover, eh!
In a few hours they would be up and out on the streets, walking past him as that "cat" had just walked past, but nudging each other at sight of him and whispering: "There goes Pascualo el llanut!" Never! Ch st, he would die first! His mother hadn't brought him into the world to be the butt of the whole Cabañal. First, Tonet! And then Dolores! And then every damned man who got in his way.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking