There he thumped him violently. El Interprete, more
muscular than Manuel, was able to get to his feet again; but he had
lost his nerve and Manuel, gathering strength from his anger, threw
him down a second time and was about to crash a rock into his face
when a pair of municipal guards happened along and kicked them apart.
El Interprete went off disgraced.
The members of the crowd calmed down and went off, one after the
other, to resume their positions around the caldron.
Manuel sat down upon some paving blocks; the struggle had wiped out
the memory of the blow he had received that afternoon; he felt brave
and in a jesting mood, so, facing the curiosity-hunters that were
watching the group, some laughing and others eyeing the urchins with
pity, he addressed them.
"The session is about to close," he said. "Now we shall begin the
community singing lessons. We're about to commence snoring, ladies and
gentlemen. Let the public have no fear. We'll take good care of the
bedsheets. Tomorrow we'll send them to the river to be washed. Now is
the time. Whoever so desires," and he pointed to a rock, "may take
advantage of these pillows. They're excellent pillows, such as are
used by the Marquises of Archipipi. Whoever doesn't wish to sleep on
them, let him be gone and not bother us. Ea! Gentlemen! If you don't
pay I'll summon the servant and tell her to close.
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