United States or Nigeria ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
It was the harsh, scolding voice of tia Picores, who had interposed her towering form between the combatants. She would settle the row! She knew how to handle those hot-heads. "You, Dolores, home with you! And you, you groveling, lying slanderer, get out of my sight and hearing." And with a shove and a threat, first in one direction and then the other, she put them both to rout.
Well, why else should people talk? No ... all I want is to be let alone, and not be plagued all the time. Keep Tonet away, no. I won't be mean to him. However, if I have seemed to be too intimate, I'll be more careful in the future, even though he's one of the family ... just so people will have no reason to say anything ...!" Tia Picores beamed. "Now, that's the way to talk!
Tia Picores, meanwhile, was spitting oaths and insults into the face of Rosario, who stood there pale, fainting, in fright and horror at what she had done. Above the crowd outside the portico the top-knots of several policemen had appeared. The forces of law and order were trying to elbow their way into the throng. Sh ... h ... h! Tia Picores assumed command. "Back to your stalls, everybody!
Those girls would have to make up! "No, no!" Dolores groaned, clenching her fists and shaking her head decisively. "No, no! No, no!" mimicked tia Picores. "What's the meaning of that? No, no! No, no! Like it or lump it, but you make up, you make up! The idea, such a scandal in the family! And lucky you are in the family, both of you. That gives you a chance to make up. She tore your ear?
They invaded and occupied the chocolate shop, where they were regular customers. Rosario set her reeking, smelly baskets on one of the marble tables, and the odor of stale fish mingled through the room with the fragrance of cheap cocoa that drifted out from the adjoining kitchen. Tia Picores gave a grunt of satisfaction as she settled into a chair.
In fact, the only woman she thought quite her class was "Granny" Picores, agüela Picores, a veteran of the Fishmarket, a whale of a woman, mastodontic, who cowed every policeman in the market with one glare from her incinerating eyes, or one bellow from that cavernous mouth of hers, the center upon which all the wrinkles in her face converged. "Cristo, when will you fools be through!"
Dolores, reserved and on her dignity, kept biting her lip as though she were trying to repress a laugh that was tickling at her palate. Rosario did not agree with tia Picores. No, she lived with her husband like a good wife, and she had a right to expect him to do as well by her. She didn't like quarreling and lying all the time. But the old woman did not let her talk. "All nonsense! Nonsense!
An expression of diabolical cruelty overspread the handsome countenance of Dolores; and when the laggart fish-woman had reached the nearer end of the bridge, near the customs office, the girl burst into an insolent, ridiculing laugh. She touched agüela Picores on the arm: "Look, granny, late as usual. And what can you expect from a mess of lazy-bones like that!"
Tia Picores, towering with the majesty of a battle-scarred whale in her tall armchair, sat twitching her wrinkly mustached lips and frequently changing position to get the full warmth of the brazier she kept daily burning at her feet till full summer-time. As a veteran of the market, she had her regular trade and did not try overmuch to attract new customers.
Just tie him to the foot of your bed, with your petticoat, and never let him out of the house.... So much for men!" The teamster several times had looked in at the door. "What do you old hens think this wagon is, your private coach?" "What's the matter with you, codfish? What are you paid for?" roared the gentle tia Picores.
Word Of The Day