“Thank you, sir,” grunted the major, and tried the puchero.
“Allow me to help you to a spoonful of molé.”
“With pleasure, Don Cosmé.”
The molé suddenly disappeared down the major’s capacious throat.
“Try some of this chilé relleno.”
“By all means,” answered the major. “Ah, by Jove! hot as fire!—whew!”
“Pica! Pica!” answered Don Cosmé, pointing to his thorax, and smiling at the wry faces the major was making. “Wash it down, Señor, with a glass of this claret—or here, Pepe! Is the Johannisberg cool yet? Bring it in, then. Perhaps you prefer champagne, Señores?”
“Thank you; do not trouble yourself, Don Cosmé.”
“No trouble, Capitan—bring champagne. Here, Señor Coronel, try the guisado de pato.”
“Thank you,” stammered the major; “you are very kind. Curse the thing! how it burns!”