es:La leva
Works originally in Spanish
Spain
"The money?—the money?—It's in my pocket."
"You thieving jade, if you've been drinking again, I swear I'll let daylight through you," roared the enraged Tuerto, on observing the continually increasing confusion of his wife. "Let me see that money, and be quick about it, I say."
The woman pulled forth tremblingly a few small coins from her pocket, and held them out to her husband, without fully opening her hand.
"Its only eight coppers you've got there, and I gave you twenty-one. Where's the rest?"
"I must have lost—have lost them. I had twenty-one this morning."
"Don't tell me such a thing as that: the two reals I gave you were in silver."
"Yes, but I changed them at the market."
"What has your mother done this morning?" quickly demands Tuerto, clutching his eldest child by the arm.
The child trembles in affright, looks alternately at father and mother, and remains silent.
"Speak out, I say."
"Mother will go and beat me if I do," replied the poor little brat, sniveling.
"And if you don't answer me, I'll give you a crack that will spoil your face."
The boy, who knows by hard experience that his father never deals in vain threats, now, despite the signals his mother makes him to keep still, shuts his eyes, and speaking as rapidly as if he feared the words would burn his mouth, says:—
"Mother brought home a pint of brandy this morning, and has the bottle hidden in the straw mattress."
Tuerto no sooner hears these words than he fells his culprit spouse to the floor with a resounding whack, rushes to the bed, rummages amid the contents of the poor mattress, pulls out from it a small bottle which contains the remainder of the contraband liquor, and returning with it towards his wife, hurls it at her head at the moment when she is just getting up from the floor. It knocks her down anew, and the children are sprinkled with the flying spirits. The wretched woman, sorely hurt, laments and groans; the frightened children weep; and the irate mariner sallies forth to the balcony, cursing his wife and the day that he was ever born.
Uncle Tremontorio, who arrived from the sea at the same time with his mates Bolina [Billy Bowline] and Tuerto, had been in his balcony knitting away at his fishing-nets (his customary occupation when at home) from the beginning of the dispute between his neighbors. From time to time he would take a bite out of a hunk of bread, and another of dried codfish, the provision that constituted his usual dinner. Though he is perfectly well posted about what has just taken place [across the narrow street], it is not his way to mix himself up in what does not concern him. But the furious husband, who needs an outlet for venomous rage that still half chokes him, calls up his neighbor, and the pair shout from one balcony to the other the following dialogue:—
"Uncle Tremontorio, I can't stand this devil of a woman any longer. One of these days you'll hear of some desperate deed on my part; I suppose that's the way it will all end."
"I have told you that it was your own fault, from the beginning. She tacked your way a little, and you let go your whole cable and thought your voyage was over."
"What could I do? I thought then she was one of heaven's own saints."
"What could you do? Do? why, what I've always told you: haul her taut, and make fast with a double turn. Rough wind astern? all right, ahead you go."
"But there's not a bone in her body I haven't already tinkered at with a cudgel, as you might mend the ribs of a boat."
"You waited till the wood was rotten, my friend."
"As God is my witness she's the worst villain unhung. What is going to become of those poor brats of mine when I am taken away from them? for the devil will never take that woman: he has no place to put her. Last week I handed her twenty-four reals to dress the children with. Have you laid eyes on that money? Well, neither have I. The drunkard spent them for drink. I gave her a walloping that left her for dead, and yet what does she do? Three days after that she sells a sheet from our bed for a quart of rum. Yesterday I gave her twenty-one cents for meat, and she drank them also. And with all this the young ones are naked, I haven't a shirt to my back, and I never dare think of treating myself to an honest glass of wine of a fete-day."
"Why don't you get an exorcism said over her? Maybe she's bewitched by evil spirits, and that's the cause of it."