Out comes the pretty one,
Out comes the ugly one,
Out comes the dwarf with his jacket of skin.”
[p 55]
José sang,—and every time he came to the words,—
“Out comes the little one,
Out comes the pretty one,”
he stooped down as he danced and made himself look as much like a dwarf as he possibly could.
When he had finished the Dwarf Song, José tucked his guitar under his arm, and bowed politely to Doña Teresa and Pancho.
“Adios!” he said. “May you rest well.”
“Adios, adios!” shouted all the children.