The explosions of laughter of these two varlets on meeting and
exchanging compliments were enough to electrify the country round.
The most hearty reception, however, was that given to Compere Martin.
Everybody, young and old, hailed him before he got to land. Everybody had a
joke for Compere Martin, and Compere Martin had a joke for everybody. Even
his little dog appeared to partake of his popularity, and to be caressed by
every hand. Indeed, he was quite a different animal the moment he touched
the land. Here he was at home; here he was of consequence. He barked, he
leaped, he frisked about his old friends, and then would skim round the
place in a wide circle, as if mad.
I traced Compere Martin and his little dog to their home. It was an old
ruinous Spanish house, of large dimensions, with verandas overshadowed by
ancient elms. The house had probably been the residence, in old times, of
the Spanish commandant. In one wing of this crazy, but aristocratical
abode, was nestled the family of my fellow-traveler; for poor devils are
apt to be magnificently clad and lodged, in the cast-off clothes and
abandoned palaces of the great and wealthy.
Pages:
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432