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WITH COTTAGERS IN MOUNTAINS 179
a lot of other such statements—merely in order to
compel me to take my seat again.
“Why, I can ride back all the way from Pinos-
Puente,” he declared, “and you will have to walk, you
know.” But when we reached Pinos-Puente, he found
that he must go with us to the other side of the town;
and once we were there, he insisted on accompanying
us still farther.
Finally he stopped, about three miles outside of the
town. We had a little meal in an inn and he took his
leave.
“No, it is too ridiculous,” he declared at the last
moment, as he turned his animals’ heads around.
“You must take your seat again, my friends. It is a
long way to Granada, much too far for you to walk,
and I have an aunt there to whom I really must pay a
visit
!””
I reminded him of his work at home and of the fact
that he would have to travel home by night and could
not work on the following day. So he yielded, pro-
nounced a last farewell and moved off on his way
home. He sat up with a sudden jolt.
“The boy shall decide the question!” he said as he
turned around. ‘“‘Where would you rather go, home
or to your aunt?”
“To auntie’s,” the little one replied seriously, and
Alfonso smiled a smile of triumph. ‘‘So we shall stay
there to-night and go back home to-morrow,” he an-
nounced with decision.
We rode on. I repeatedly observed in him a quality
that is rare in Spain—kindness to animals. And it was
even more remarkable to observe that he did not
smoke.
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