may be taught that they may secretly take any
sum of money needful to expiate their husbands'
sins and purchase their pardon.

In every place where our people reside, they
must have sonic medical man, faithful to the
Company, whom they will specially recommend
to sick persons, and whose abilities they will
exalt above all others; in order that he, in turn,
recommending us above all other religious
orders, may cause us to be called in by his most
wealthy patients, and especially those who are
on their death-beds.

After these specimens, "The choice of young
people to be admitted into the Society, and the
mode of retaining them," "How to behave to
nuns and devotees," and other equally racy chapters,
may be imagined to a certain extent.

ANDALUSIAN TALES.

A COLLECTION of the legends and popular
songs of Andalusia, lately published in Spanish,
by the lady known as Fernan Caballero, is worth
talking about. Spain, rich in popular legends,
is very poor in such collections; indeed, this
authoress may claim to be the first person who
has heartily undertaken to search out and print
the legends, songs, and proverbs, of the people.
What she produces has the usual close relationship
with the traditions of all other countries,
and the usual local colour. Fernan Caballero
tells the stories in the very language of the
common people, which in Spain is singularly
free from all that has with us given its bad
sense to the word vulgar. By the way, are
there not many of us who suppose that there is
a bad sense in the word common, when they
speak in English of the common people, as if
the phrase meant anything more or less than
the community? That is digression. We were
only saying that the Andalusian peasant, when
he tells a story, has the tongue of a gentleman,
even although he has not studied at the crimson
rock.

To study at the crimson rock is a legendary
Spanish proverb for the acquiring of all possible
accomplishments. The tale goes, that a certain
Marquis Villena studied at the crimson rock
with the Old Gentleman himself. His
companion every day brought out a great table, and
when they sat at it, all that was written on the
crimson rock became plain to their eyes. The
marquis in this way learnt more than the Old
Gentleman, who became jealous thereat, and in
a great passion threw the table over on his
comrade, meaning to kill him. But the Marquis
Villena being clever enough to foresee that
danger, slipped out of the way, so that the
table only fell upon his shadow and destroyed
that. It is for this reason that the marquis
was ever afterwards a shadowless man; and thus
we see that Peter Schlemihl had, unknown to
himself, an ancestor in Spain.

Now let us sit under a chesnut-tree, among
the peasants, letting them tell us their own
stories, and perhaps oblige us with a song.

Manuel the Muleteer begins:

Did you over hear the tale of the marriage of
Lady Fortune to Don Guinea (Doña Fortuna
and Don Dinero)? I'm told they were so
much in love together that you never saw the
one without the other. Wherever Don Guinea
went, there was Lady Fortune following him
like his shadow. People began to make remarks,
and so these two agreed they would get married.
Don Guinea was a dolt with a round head of
Peruvian gold, a belly of Mexican silver, feet of
Segovian copper, ana half-boots of paper from
the Madrid factory. Lady Fortune was a great
fool, faithless, and always running into extravagance,
flighty, perverse, and as blind as a mole.
These married people hardly got through their
wedding-cake before they fell into strife; the
wife, wanted to rule the roost, but Don Guinea,
inflated and vain as he is, found that not to his
taste. As each wanted the top seat, and neither
would yield to the other, they agreed to try
which was the stronger of the two.

"Look yonder," said the woman to the man;
"do you see that poor wretch in the shadow of
the olive-tree, who droops his head so
hopelessly? Let us try which of us two, you or I,
can mend his lot." The man was content; they
went to the olive-tree, he hopping like a frog,
she at a leap, and then the two swells made
their presence known.

The poor wretch, who never in all his life
had seen either the one or the other, opened
his eyes till they cracked at seeing their two
mightinesses plant themselves before him.

"Do you not know me?" said Don Guinea
to the pauper.

"I do not know your highness; but I am at
your service."

"Have you never seen my face, then?"

"Never in all my life."

"How? Do you possess nothing?"

"Yes, my lord, I possess six children, naked
as they were born, and hungry as wolves; but I
possess no goods, I live only from hand to
mouth."

"Then why do not you work?"

"Why, indeed! Because I find no work. I
have such bad luck that everything goes the
crab's way with me; it has hailed misfortune
ever since I married. Just now an employer
agreed with us for the digging of a well here,
on condition that each should get a doubloon
when water was found, but before then not a
maravedi."

"Well bethought," said Don Guinea.
"'Moneys in pocket, hands in pocket,' says the
proverb. But proceed, man."

"We began to work with all our might; for,
with all the doleful face your highness sees me
in, I am a man, master."

"Ay, to be sure you are," said Don Guinea.

"You see, master," said the pauper, "there
are four classes of men: there are men that are
men, and there are mannikins; there are lads
and there are laddies, who are not worth the
water they drink. But as for us, we dug and
dug, and the deeper we got the drier we found
it. It was as if the earth were dried up to its