He laughed loudly, patting his nephew on the shoulder.
–Well, let's go," he continued, "but let the little black man take these vegetables to the lady, because I'm going back," and he threw Juan Ángel's basket on his back, saying, "are they sweet things that the girl María puts out for her cousin?
–Here is something my mother sent to Luisa.
–But what has the child got into her? I saw her yesterday evening, as fresh and pretty as ever. She looks like a rosebud of Castile.
–It's good now.
–And what are you doing there that you don't get out of here, you nigger," said José to Juan Ángel. Carry the guambía and go, so that you'll be back soon, because later on it won't be good for you to be alone around here. There's no need to say anything down there.
–Be careful not to come back! -I shouted at him when he was on the other side of the river.
Juan Ángel disappeared into the reeds like a frightened guatín.
Braulio was a young boy of my age. Two months ago he had come from the province to accompany his uncle, and he had been madly in love, for a long time, with his cousin Tránsito.
The physiognomy of the nephew had all the nobility that made the old man's interesting; but the most remarkable thing about it was a pretty mouth, without yet a goatee, whose feminine smile contrasted with the manly energy of the other features. Meek of character, handsome, and indefatigable in his work, he was a treasure to José, and the most suitable husband for Tránsito.
Madame Louise and the girls came out to greet me at the door of the hut, laughing and affectionate. Our frequent dealings over the past few months had made the girls less shy with me. Joseph himself on our hunts, that is, on the battlefield, exercised a paternal authority over me, all of which disappeared when they came to the house, as if our loyal and simple friendship were a secret.
–At last, at last! -said Madame Louise, taking me by the arm to lead me into the sitting-room, "seven days!
The girls looked at me smiling mischievously.
–But Jesus, how pale he is," exclaimed Louisa, looking at me more closely. That's no good; if you came here often, you'd be the size of a fat man.
–And what do I look like to you? -I said to the girls.
–I say," said Transito. -said Transito: "Well, what are we going to think of him, if he's over there studying and…
–We have had so many good things for you," interrupted Lucia: "we left the first badea of the new bush damaged, waiting for you: on Thursday, thinking you were coming, we had such a good custard for you....
–And what a peje, eh Luisa? -added José; "if that has been the trial; we have not known what to do with him. But he has had reason not to come," continued he, in a grave tone; "there has been reason; and as you will soon invite him to spend a whole day with us? won't you, Braulio?
–Yes, yes, let's make peace and talk about it. When is the big day, Mrs. Luisa? When is it, Tránsito?
She was as mad as a hatter, and wouldn't have looked up to see her boyfriend for all the gold in the world.
–That takes time," said Luisa; "don't you see that the little house needs whitewashing and the doors put on? It will be the day of Our Lady of Guadalupe, for Tránsito is her devotee.
–And when is that?
–And you don't know? Well, on the twelfth of December. Haven't these guys told you that they want to make you their godfather?
