“If this Raton (he-mouse) Perez—Momo had given the young barber this sobriquet—happens to fall into the porridge-pot, I will not be the ant who will sing or weep over him: less still will I be she who will listen to his singing; for his singing attacks my nervous system, as Don Frederico expresses it, which he assures me is now more stretched than the strings of a guitar. You shall see how this Raton Perez sings.”
Marisalada rapidly took a leaf of aloe, which lay on the ground among those which served brother Gabriel as screens to protect, in their first growth, the tomato plants against the attacks of the north wind. She placed this leaf between her arms in the manner of a guitar, and began to imitate with a grotesque air the gestures of Ramon Perez, with a talent most perfect for imitation; then she sang this couplet with strong trills:
“Young meagre Minstrel without gladness,
What have you there? why this distress, why these deep sighs?
Is it the cause of this dire sadness,
That on too high a castle you have cast your eyes?”
“Yes,” said Modesto, who remembered the serenades at the door of Rosita, “this Ramon has always had grand pretensions.”
The events could not persuade Modesto that these serenades were not designed for Rosita. From thence but one idea entered the head of this man; it was, that if she fell into a love snare, he himself could not extricate her. The calibre of his intelligence was so straitened, and so invariably fixed, that as soon as an idea penetrated his brain it became set, and remained there for life.
“I go,” said Marisalada, throwing the leaf of aloe in such way that it fell with force against brother Gabriel, who, on his knees, and with his back turned, attached his hundred and twenty-fifth knot.
“Jesus!” cried out brother Gabriel, turning around frightened. Then, without uttering another word, he again set to work to tie up his lettuces.
“What aiming!” said Marisalada, laughing. “Don Modesto, take me for artilleryman when you obtain cannon for your fort.”
“Such things are not gracious; they are in bad taste, which, you must know, please me in no way,” replied Maria a little coldly. “Say to me what you like, but as to brother Gabriel, trouble not his peace, it is the only good left to him.”
“Do not get angry,” replied the Gaviota, “you well know that brother Gabriel is not made of glass.” Then, said she, making a courteous reverence, “My commandant, say to Rosa Mistica that she transfer her school to your fort, when it has some 24-pounders, that she may be well defended against the snares of the demon. I must go, because Don Frederico does not come; I am disposed to believe that he is vaccinating all the village, including Rosa Mistica, the schoolmaster, and the alcalde.”