very heart. At the end of all ends, master, we
found nothing but an old shoe."

"Well, then, now I will show you my
favour," said Don Guinea, as he pressed a hard
dollar into the man's hand.

It seemed a dream to him, and he flew rather
than ran, for joy gave wings to his feet, and
he pounced into a baker's shop, where he bought
bread. But when he wanted to take out his
money to pay for it, he found nothing in his
pocket but a hole, through which the dollar had
run out without waiting for leave.

The poor wretch, in despair, set himself to
hunt for it; but how should he find it? To the
pig that is meant for the wolf, Saint Anthony
himself cannot bring help. Besides the dollar,
the man lost his time; besides his time, his
patience; and he began to complain against his
adverse fortune, in a way to make one's flesh
creep.

Lady Fortune held her sides for laughter,
and the face of Don Guinea turned the yellower
for wrath; but there was nothing for him to do
but open his purse again, and now he gave
the unfortunate wretch an ounce of gold,
bidding him hold it tight in his hand, and put
no more trust in a ragged pocket. Thereat the
poor fellow could not contain himself for joy.
But this time he did not go to the baker's, but,
with the gold tight in his grasp, he went to the
draper's to buy clothes for his wife and little
frocks for his children. But then, when he
gave his ounce in payment and expected change,
a change there was, for the draper raised a
great commotion, said it was bad money, and
that its owner was a wicked coiner, whom he
should deliver up to justice. When the poor
man heard that, his cheeks turned so red hot
that you could have roasted beans at them. He
escaped out of the turmoil, and ran back to
Don Guinea, to whom he told, with streaming
tears, all that had happened. At the hearing
of it Lady Fortune almost split herself with
laughter, and Don Guinea was as near bursting
with rage. "Take this," he said, offering to
the poor fellow two thousand reals. "You
really have most wretched luck, but I will help
you out of it, unless I'm nobody."

The unlucky man was so overjoyed that he
did not know whither he ran until he got his
nose between a couple of highway robbers, who
stripped him to the skin.

Lady Fortune then mocked her husband with
a mischievous bit of endearment, and he made a
face like that of an ape in a fury.

"Now it is my turn, dear," she said to him,
"and we shall see which has the more might,
petticoat or breeches."

She approached the miserable being who had
thrown himself on the ground, where he was
kicking and tearing out his hair, blew over him,
and straightway he heard the dollar ring on the
ground as he kicked it out of the leg of the
trousers in which it had stuck.

"Something is something," said he. "Let
me go and buy bread for the children, who
have starved these three days and have
stomachs as thin and easy to see through as a paper
lantern."

As he passed by the draper's on his way to
the baker's, out came the draper and cried after
him, humbly begging pardon for his fancy that
the gold ounce was bad money; an officer of
the mint had called after he left and assured
him that it was not only good, but even somewhat
over-weight. Would his honour take it
again, and the stuff also that he had bought, as
compensation for the unjust accusation brought
against him? The poor man was content to do
that; packed all together, and as he strode with
his pack across the market-place he came upon
a troop of constables, who were just bringing in
the thieves by whom he had been robbed.
Behind them marched the judge, and such a
just judge, that he ordered his two thousand
reals to be restored to him without costs or
drawback. With this money the man joined a
cousin in the speculation of search for an iron
mine, and he had not dug three yards before he
came to a vein of gold, a vein of silver, and a
vein of copper, out of which he got guineas,
shillings, and halfpence, for all the rest of his
days, and became a man of immense wealth and
consideration.

Since that time Lady Fortune has had her
husband quite under her thumb; but she leads
a wilder and more whimsical life than ever, without
sense or reason, scattering her luck.
However, I've my share of it just now, if you have
liked my story.

So tells the peasant moralist under the chesnut-
tree. His neighbour Perez, the water-carrier,
who is a Catalonian, strums his guitar, and sings
to it this romance:

   Mighty clash and clang of weapons,
   Shout and shriek uplifted yonder
   In the royal fort of Burgos,
   Where the men of might assemble,
   Bring the king himself, and with him
   All his courtiers, down the staircase.
   At the great gates of the palace
   Is the girl Jimena Gomez,
   Weeping with dishevelled tresses,
   For the count her father fallen,
   Where Rodrigo de Vivar
   Grasps a wet and blood-red sword.
   "Right and vengeance, gracious king—
   Vengeance on the head of traitors!
   Can you thus look down with smiling
   On your children's bloody deeds?
   Is no justice here, I seek it
   From the mighty mountains yonder,
   Since from man I have no comfort.

   "Kings who do not shelter justice
   Are unworthy of their crowns,
   Of the bread upon their tables,
   Of their following of nobles."
   Stand the courtiers in confusion,
   Waiting for the royal word,
   And the king with cheerful favour
   Answers thus Jimena Gomez:
   "When Rodrigo de Vivar
   Stabbed your father to the heart,