their hands were anything but clean, and their long nails were edged
with black; one had a dudgeon-dagger by his side; the other a knife with
a yellow handle.

These gentlemen had selected for their siesta the porch or penthouse
commonly found before a Venta; and, finding themselves opposite each
other, he who appeared to be the elder said to the younger, "Of what
country is your worship, noble Sir, and by what road do you propose to
travel?" "What is my country, Señor Cavalier," returned the other, "I
know not; nor yet which way my road lies."

"Your worship, however, does not appear to have come from heaven,"
rejoined the elder, "and as this is not a place wherein a man can take
up his abode for good, you must, of necessity, be going further." "That
is true," replied the younger; "I have, nevertheless, told you only the
veritable fact; for as to my country, it is mine no more, since all that
belongs to me there is a father who does not consider me his child, and
a step-mother who treats me like a son-in-law. With regard to my road,
it is that which chance places before me, and it will end wherever I may
find some one who will give me the wherewithal to sustain this miserable
life of mine."

"Is your worship acquainted with any craft?" inquired the first speaker.
"With none," returned the other, "except that I can run like a hare,
leap like a goat, and handle a pair of scissors with great dexterity."

"These things are all very good, useful, and profitable," rejoined the
elder. "You will readily find the Sacristan of some church who will give
your worship the offering-bread of All Saints' Day, for cutting him his
paper flowers to decorate the Monument[8] on Holy Thursday."