"Will you have some, _ninchi?_" he asked, offering Manuel one of
the slices.
"Hand it over."
By the Ronda de Atocha they reached the Estacion de Mediodia.
"Do you know the time?" asked the Orphan.
"Yes. It's eleven."
"Well then, it's too early to go to the barracks."
Opposite the station a lady, from the seat of a coach, was making a
speech proclaiming the wonders of a salve for wounds and a specific
for curing the toothache.
The Orphan, biting away at his slice of bread, interrupted the speech
of the lady in the coach, shouting ironically:
"Give me a slice to take away my toothache!"
"And another one to me!" added Manuel.
The husband of the speechmaker, an old fellow wearing a very long
raglan and standing amidst the crowd of spectators listening with the
greatest respect to what his better half was saying, grew indignant
and speaking but half Spanish, cried:
"If I catch you your teeth'll ache for fair."
"This gentleman came from Archipipi," interrupted the Orphan.
The old codger tried to catch one of the urchins. Manuel and the
Orphan ran off, dodging the man in the raglan and planting themselves
opposite him.
"Impudent rascals," shouted the gentleman. "I'll give you a hiding and
maybe your teeth won't really ache by the time I'm through with you."
"But they hurt already," chorused the ragamuffins.
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