Herself accustomed
to pilfer, she knew to the least detail every trick of the servants,
and not a centimo escaped her; she always thought she was being
robbed. Such was her spirit of economy that at home they ate stale
bread, thus confirming the popular saying, "in the house of the smith,
a wooden knife."
The sister-in-law, an uncouth peasant with a stubby nose, carroty
cheeks, abundant breasts and hips, could give lessons in avarice to
her sister, while in the matter of immodesty and undignified
comportment she outdistanced her. She would go about the store with
her bosom exposed and there wasn't a delivery-man who missed a chance
to pinch her.
"What a fatty you are! Oh!" they would all exclaim.
And it was as if all this frequently fingered fat didn't belong to
her, for she raised no protest. Should any one, however, try to get
the best of her on the price of a roll, she would turn into a wild
beast.
On Sunday afternoons Uncle Patas, his wife and his sister-in-law were
in the habit of playing _mus_ on a little table in the middle of
the road; they never dared to leave the store alone.
After Manuel had been here for three months, Petra carne to see Uncle
Patas and asked him to give her boy a regular wage. Uncle Patas burst
into laughter; the request struck him as the very height of absurdity
and he answered No, that it was impossible, that the boy didn't even
earn the bread he ate.
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