Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 13, 2025
And although the glasses they had before them were not of "quinset," since the season for ices had not yet come, all the old women, to show their approval of the philosophy expounded, drank their lemon-water instead with gulps and gapes of satisfaction. Tia Picores, meanwhile, was getting angry at the steadfast balkiness of the two rivals. "Well, now, speak up, numskulls!
Some heart in that girl after all, come now! Well, Rosario! Are you satisfied at last? There's a good girl! One smack, and bygones are bygones!" Reluctantly, the women actually pushing the two heads toward each other, the girls kissed, but without rising from their chairs. Tia Picores, in the full flush of triumph, could not work her tongue fast enough.
Then, wiping her furrowed face with her dirty, greasy apron, she walked over to her niece's stall, planted herself with arms folded in front of it, and began her lecture. That business had got to stop, if you please! The family of tia Picores could not be the talk of the Fishmarket all the time. It had got to stop!
Tia Picores seemed to be in a thoughtful mood, as she talked aloud and in monologue to the fish lying about in front of her. And those spit-fires would keep at it for the rest of their lives, eh! I kill you or you kill me! Fine! And all over a man! Men! Men! As though there weren't enough hogs in the world to go round! But she would put a stop to it, she would.
"We're going to stop a minute at the chocolate place," tia Picores directed to her teamster; and the company of mottled shawls and dirty skirts went out of the Pescadería, the flagstones echoing to the clatter of heavy shoes.
But he died true to his reputation and just as he had lived, his whip clutched in one hand, sweating brandy from every pore, and the wagon full of the girls he spoke of, sacrilegiously, as his "flock." Dolores had no one else to lean on in her trouble than her tia Picores, the fish-woman, a chaperone not in every sense desirable, for she tempered kindness with fisticuffs.
And what would they have? Same as usual, of course; a half-pint cup all around, and a glass of lemon water apiece. This would make the fourth chocolate that tia Picores had downed that fore-noon; but the stomachs of those tough daughters of the sea were poison proof, and they could sip gallons of that imitation "Venezuela" with the gusto of sybarites. Nothing to beat chocolate!
Dolores finally drew her shawl about her and crouched for shelter behind the outermost rock, the wash from the surf climbing up around her legs, but her eyes she held seaward with the fixed motionless stare of a sphinx. On a stone farther back tia Picores towered on high with her massive bony frame.
And on a rock, there, above them all, indomitable in the face of sorrow, proud and erect as Vengeance herself, towered the massive bony frame of tia Picores, her skirts lashing like pennons in the hurricane.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking