THE LITTLE MERCHANTS.
CHAPTER I.
_Chi di gallina nasce_, _convien che rozole_. As the old cock crows, so crows the young.
THOSE who have visited Italy give us an agreeable picture of the cheerfulindustry of the children of all ages in the celebrated city of Naples.Their manner of living and their numerous employments are exactlydescribed in the following “Extract from a Traveller’s Journal.” {301}
“The children are busied in various ways. A great number of them bringfish for sale to town from Santa Lucia; others are very often seen aboutthe arsenals, or wherever carpenters are at work, employed in gatheringup the chips and pieces of wood; or by the sea-side, picking up sticks,and whatever else has drifted ashore, which, when their basket is full,they carry away.
“Children of two or three years old, who can scarcely crawl along uponthe ground, in company with boys of five or six, are employed in thispretty trade. Hence they proceed with their baskets into the heart ofthe city, where in several places they form a sort of little market,sitting round with their stock of wood before them. Labourers, and thelower order of citizens, buy it of them to burn in the tripods forwarming themselves, or to use in their scanty kitchens.
“Other children carry about for sale the water of the sulphurous wells,which, particularly in the spring season, is drunk in great abundance.Others again endeavour to turn a few pence by buying a small matter offruit, of pressed honey, cakes, and comfits, and then, like littlepeddlers, offer and sell them to other children, always for no moreprofit than that they may have their share of them free of expense.
[Picture: The Little Merchants]
“It is really curious to see how an urchin, whose whole stock andproperty consist in a board and a knife, will carry about a water-melon,or a half roasted gourd, collect a troup of children round him, set downhis board, and proceed to divide the fruit into small pieces among them.
“The buyers keep a sharp look out to see that they have enough for theirlittle piece of copper; and the Lilliputian tradesmen act with no lesscaution as the exigencies of the case may require, to prevent his beingcheated out of a morsel.”
The advantages of truth and honesty, and the value of a character forintegrity, are very early felt amongst these little merchants in theirdaily intercourse with each other. The fair dealer is always sooner orlater seen to prosper. The most cunning cheat is at last detected anddisgraced.
Numerous instances of the truth of this common observation were remarkedby many Neapolitan children, especially by those who were acquainted withthe characters and history of Piedro and Francisco, two boys originallyequal in birth, fortune and capacity, but different in their education,and consequently in their habits and conduct. Francisco was the son ofan honest gardener, who, from the time he could speak, taught him to loveto speak the truth, showed him that liars are never believed—that cheatsand thieves cannot be trusted, and that the shortest way to obtain a goodcharacter is to deserve it.
Youth and white paper, as the proverb says, take all impressions. Theboy profited much by his father’s precepts, and more by his example; healways heard his father speak the truth, and saw that he dealt fairlywith everybody. In all his childish traffic, Francisco, imitating hisparents, was scrupulously honest, and therefore all his companionstrusted him—“As honest as Francisco,” became a sort of proverb amongstthem.
“As honest as Francisco,” repeated Piedro’s father, when he one day heardthis saying. “Let them say so; I say, ‘As sharp as Piedro’; and let ussee which will go through the world best.” With the idea of making hisson _sharp_ he made him cunning. He taught him, that to make a _goodbargain_ was to deceive as to the value and price of whatever he wantedto dispose of; to get as much money as possible from customers by takingadvantage of their ignorance or of their confidence. He often repeatedhis favourite proverb—“The buyer has need of a hundred eyes; the sellerhas need but of one.” {302} And he took frequent opportunities ofexplaining the meaning of this maxim to his son. He was a fisherman; andas his gains depended more upon fortune than upon prudence, he trustedhabitually to his good luck. After being idle for a whole day, he wouldcast his line or his nets, and if he was lucky enough to catch a finefish, he would go and show it in triumph to his neighbour the gardener.
“You are obliged to work all day long for your daily bread,” he wouldsay. “Look here; I work but five minutes, and I have not only dailybread, but daily fish.”
Upon these occasions, our fisherman always forgot, or neglected to count,the hours and days which were wasted in waiting for a fair wind to put tosea, or angling in vain on the shore.
Little Piedro, who used to bask in the sun upon the sea-shore beside hisfather, and to lounge or sleep away his time in a fishing-boat, acquiredhabits of idleness, which seemed to his father of little consequencewhilst he was _but a child_.
“What will you do with Piedro as he grows up, neighbour?” said thegardener. “He is smart and quick enough, but he is always in mischief.Scarcely a day has passed for this fortnight but I have caught himamongst my grapes. I track his footsteps all over my vineyard.”
“_He is but a child_ yet, and knows no better,” replied the fisherman.
“But if you don’t teach him better now he is a child, how will he knowwhen he is a man?” said the gardener.
“A mighty noise about a bunch of grapes, truly!” cried the fisherman: “afew grapes more or less in your vineyard, what does it signify?”
“I speak for your son’s sake, and not for the sake of my grapes,” saidthe gardener; “and I tell you again, the boy will not do well in theworld, neighbour, if you don’t look after him in time.”
“He’ll do well enough in the world, you will find,” answered thefisherman, carelessly. “Whenever he casts my nets, they never come upempty. ‘It is better to be lucky than wise.’” {303a}
This was a proverb which Piedro had frequently heard from his father, andto which he most willingly trusted, because it gave him less trouble tofancy himself fortunate than to make himself wise.
“Come here, child,” said his father to him, when he returned home afterthe preceding conversation with the gardener; “how old are you, myboy?—twelve years old, is not it?”
“As old as Francisco, and older by six months,” said Piedro.
“And smarter and more knowing by six years,” said his father. “Here,take these fish to Naples, and let us see how you’ll sell them for me.Venture a small fish, as the proverb says, to catch a great one. {303b}I was too late with them at the market yesterday, but nobody will knowbut what they are just fresh out of the water, unless you go and tellthem.”
“Not I; trust me for that; I’m not such a fool,” replied Piedro,laughing; “I leave that to Francisco. Do you know, I saw him the otherday miss selling a melon for his father by turning the bruised side tothe customer, who was just laying down the money for it, and who was araw servant-boy, moreover—one who would never have guessed there were twosides to a melon, if he had not, as you say, father, been told of it?”
“Off with you to market. You are a droll chap,” said his father, “andwill sell my fish cleverly, I’ll be bound. As to the rest, let every mantake care of his own grapes. You understand me, Piedro?”
“Perfectly,” said the boy, who perceived that his father was indifferentas to his honesty, provided he sold fish at the highest price possible.He proceeded to the market, and he offered his fish with assiduity toevery person whom he thought likely to buy it, especially to those uponwhom he thought he could impose. He positively asserted to all wholooked at his fish, that they were just fresh out of the water. Goodjudges of men and fish knew that he said what was false, and passed himby with neglect; but it was at last what he called _good luck_ to meetwith the very same young raw servant-boy who would have bought thebruised melon from Francisco. He made up to him directly, crying, “Fish!Fine fresh fish! fresh fish!”
“Was it caught t
o-day?” said the boy.
“Yes, this morning; not an hour ago,” said Piedro, with the greatesteffrontery.
The servant-boy was imposed upon; and being a foreigner, speaking theItalian language but imperfectly, and not being expert at reckoning theItalian money, he was no match for the cunning Piedro, who cheated himnot only as to the freshness, but as to the price of the commodity.Piedro received nearly half as much again for his fish as he ought tohave done.
On his road homewards from Naples to the little village of Resina, wherehis father lived, he overtook Francisco, who was leading his father’sass. The ass was laden with large panniers, which were filled with thestalks and leaves of cauliflowers, cabbages, broccoli, lettuces, etc.—allthe refuse of the Neapolitan kitchens, which are usually collected by thegardeners’ boys, and carried to the gardens round Naples, to be mixedwith other manure.
“Well filled panniers, truly,” said Piedro, as he overtook Francisco andthe ass. The panniers were indeed not only filled to the top, but piledup with much skill and care, so that the load met over the animal’s back.
“It is not a very heavy load for the ass, though it looks so large,” saidFrancisco. “The poor fellow, however, shall have a little of thiswater,” added he, leading the ass to a pool by the roadside.
“I was not thinking of the ass, boy; I was not thinking of any ass, butof you, when I said, ‘Well filled panniers, truly!’ This is yourmorning’s work, I presume, and you’ll make another journey to Naplesto-day, on the same errand, I warrant, before your father thinks you havedone enough?”
“Not before _my father_ thinks I have done enough, but before I think somyself,” replied Francisco.
“I do enough to satisfy myself and my father, too,” said Piedro, “withoutslaving myself after your fashion. Look here,” producing the money hehad received for the fish; “all this was had for asking. It is no badthing, you’ll allow, to know how to ask for money properly.”
“I should be ashamed to beg, or borrow either,” said Francisco.
“Neither did I get what you see by begging, or borrowing either,” saidPiedro, “but by using my wits; not as you did yesterday, when, like anovice, you showed the bruised side of your melon, and so spoiled yourmarket by your wisdom.”
“Wisdom I think it still,” said Francisco.
“And your father?” asked Piedro.
“And my father,” said Francisco.
“Mine is of a different way of thinking,” said Piedro. “He always tellsme that the buyer has need of a hundred eyes, and if one can blind thewhole hundred, so much the better. You must know, I got off the fishto-day that my father could not sell yesterday in the market—got it offfor fresh just out of the river—got twice as much as the market price forit; and from whom, think you? Why, from the very booby that would havebought the bruised melon for a sound one if you would have let him.You’ll allow I’m no fool, Francisco, and that I’m in a fair way to growrich, if I go on as I have begun.”
“Stay,” said Francisco; “you forgot that the booby you took in to-daywill not be so easily taken in to-morrow. He will buy no more fish fromyou, because he will be afraid of your cheating him; but he will be readyenough to buy fruit from me, because he will know I shall not cheathim—so you’ll have lost a customer, and I gained one.”
“With all my heart,” said Piedro. “One customer does not make a market;if he buys no more from me, what care I? there are people enough to buyfish in Naples.”
“And do you mean to serve them all in the same manner?” asked Francisco.
“If they will be only so good as to give me leave,” said Piedro,laughing, and repeating his father’s proverb, “‘Venture a small fish tocatch a large one.’” {306} He had learned to think that to cheat inmaking bargains was witty and clever.
“And you have never considered, then,” said Francisco, “that all thesepeople will, one after another, find you out in time?”
“Ay, in time; but it will be some time first. There are a great many ofthem, enough to last me all the summer, if I lose a customer a day,” saidPiedro.
“And next summer,” observed Francisco, “what will you do?”
“Next summer is not come yet; there is time enough to think what I shalldo before next summer comes. Why, now, suppose the blockheads, afterthey had been taken in and found it out, all joined against me, and wouldbuy none of our fish—what then? Are there no trades but that of afisherman? In Naples, are there not a hundred ways of making money for asmart lad like me? as my father says. What do you think of turningmerchant, and selling sugar-plums and cakes to the children in theirmarket? Would they be hard to deal with, think you?”
“I think not,” said Francisco; “but I think the children would find outin time if they were cheated, and would like it as little as the men.”
“I don’t doubt them. Then _in time_ I could, you know, change mytrade—sell chips and sticks in the wood-market—hand about the lemonade tothe fine folks, or twenty other things. There are trades enough, boy.”
“Yes, for the honest dealer,” said Francisco, “but for no other; for inall of them you’ll find, as _my_ father says, that a good character isthe best fortune to set up with. Change your trade ever so often, you’llbe found out for what you are at last.”
“And what am I, pray?” said Piedro, angrily. “The whole truth of thematter is, Francisco, that you envy my good luck, and can’t bear to hearthis money jingle in my hand. Ay, stroke the long ears of your ass, andlook as wise as you please. It’s better to be lucky than wise, as _my_father says. Good morning to you. When I am found out for what I am, orwhen the worst comes to the worst, I can drive a stupid ass, with hispanniers filled with rubbish, as well as you do now, _honest Francisco_.”
“Not quite so well. Unless you were _honest Francisco_, you would notfill his panniers quite so readily.”.
This was certain, that Francisco was so well known for his honestyamongst all the people at Naples with whom his father was acquainted,that everyone was glad to deal with him; and as he never wronged anyone,all were willing to serve him—at least, as much as they could withoutloss to themselves: so that after the market was over, his panniers wereregularly filled by the gardeners and others with whatever he wanted.His industry was constant, his gains small but certain, and he every dayhad more and more reason to trust to his father’s maxim—That honesty isthe best policy.
The foreign servant lad, to whom Francisco had so honestly, or, as Piedrosaid, so sillily, shown the bruised side of the melon, was an Englishman.He left his native country, of which he was extremely fond, to attendupon his master, to whom he was still more attached. His master was in adeclining state of health, and this young lad waited on him a little moreto his mind than his other servants. We must, in consideration of hiszeal, fidelity and inexperience, pardon him for not being a good judge offish. Though he had simplicity enough to be easily cheated once, he hadtoo much sense to be twice made a dupe. The next time he met Piedro inthe market, he happened to be in company with several English gentlemen’sservants, and he pointed Piedro out to them all as an arrant knave. Theyheard his cry of “Fresh fish! fresh fish! fine fresh fish!” withincredulous smiles, and let him pass, but not without some expressions ofcontempt, though uttered in English, he tolerably well understood; forthe tone of contempt is sufficiently expressive in all languages. Helost more by not selling his fish to these people than he had gained theday before by cheating the _English booby_. The market was wellsupplied, and he could not get rid of his cargo.
“Is not this truly provoking?” said Piedro, as he passed by Francisco,who was selling fruit for his father. “Look, my basket is as heavy aswhen I left home and look at ’em yourself, they really are fine freshfish to-day and yet, because that revengeful booby told how I took him inyesterday, not one of yonder crowd would buy them; and all the time theyreally are fresh to-day!”
“So they are,” said Franscisco, “but you said so yesterday, when the
ywere not; and he that was duped then, is not ready to believe you to-day.How does he know that you deserve it better?”
“He might have looked at the fish,” repeated Piedro; “they are freshto-day. I am sure he need not have been afraid.”
“Ay,” said Francisco; “but as my father said to you once—the scalded dogfears cold water.” {308}
Here their conversation was interrupted by the same English lad, whosmiled as he came up to Francisco, and taking up a fine pine-apple, hesaid, in a mixture of bad Italian and English—“I need not look at theother side of this; you will tell me if it is not as good as it looks.Name your price; I know you have but one, and that an honest one; and asto the rest, I am able and willing to pay for what I buy; that is to say,my master is, which comes to the same thing. I wish your fruit couldmake him well, and it would be worth its weight in gold to me, at least.We must have some of your grapes for him.”
“Is he not well?” inquired Francisco. “We must, then, pick out the bestfor him,” at the same time singling out a tempting bunch. “I hope hewill like these; but if you could some day come as far as Resina (it is avillage but a few miles out of town, where we have our vineyard), youcould there choose for yourself, and pluck them fresh from the vines foryour poor master.”
“Bless you, my good boy; I should take you for an Englishman, by your wayof dealing. I’ll come to your village. Only write me down the name; foryour Italian names slip through my head. I’ll come to the vineyard if itwas ten miles off; and all the time we stay in Naples (may it not be solong as I fear it will!), with my master’s leave, which he never refusesme to anything that’s proper, I’ll deal with you for all our fruit, assure as my name’s Arthur, and with none else, with my good will. I wishall your countrymen would take after you in honesty, indeed I do,”concluded the Englishman, looking full at Piedro, who took up his unsoldbasket of fish, looking somewhat silly, and gloomily walked off.
Arthur, the English servant, was as good as his word. He dealtconstantly with Francisco, and proved an excellent customer, buying fromhim during the whole season as much fruit as his master wanted. Hismaster, who was an Englishman of distinction, was invited to take up hisresidence, during his stay in Italy, at the Count de F.’s villa, whichwas in the environs of Naples—an easy walk from Resina. Francisco hadthe pleasure of seeing his father’s vineyard often full of generousvisitors, and Arthur, who had circulated the anecdote of the bruisedmelon, was, he said, “proud to think that some of this was his doing, andthat an Englishman never forgot a good turn, be it from a countryman orforeigner.”
“My dear boy,” said Francisco’s father to him, whilst Arthur was in thevineyard helping to tend the vines, “I am to thank you and your honesty,it seems, for our having our hands so full of business this season. Itis fair you should have a share of our profits.”
“So I have, father, enough and enough, when I see you and mother going onso well. What can I want more?”
“Oh, my brave boy, we know you are a grateful, good son; but I have beenyour age myself; you have companions, you have little expenses of yourown. Here; this vine, this fig-tree, and a melon a week next summershall be yours. With these make a fine figure amongst the littleNeapolitan merchants; and all I wish is that you may prosper as well, andby the same honest means, in managing for yourself, as you have donemanaging for me.”
“Thank you, father; and if I prosper at all, it shall be by those means,and no other, or I should not be worthy to be called your son.”
Piedro the cunning did not make quite so successful a summer’s work asdid Francisco the honest. No extraordinary events happened, no singularinstance of bad or good luck occurred; but he felt, as persons usuallydo, the natural consequences of his own actions. He pursued his schemeof imposing, as far as he could, upon every person he dealt with; and theconsequence was, that at last nobody would deal with him.
“It is easy to outwit one person, but impossible to outwit all theworld,” said a man {309} who knew the world at least as well as eitherPiedro or his father.
Piedro’s father, amongst others, had reason to complain. He saw his owncustomers fall off from him, and was told, whenever he went into themarket, that his son was such a cheat there was no dealing with him. Oneday, when he was returning from the market in a very bad humour, inconsequence of these reproaches, and of his not having found customersfor his goods, he espied his _smart_ son Piedro at a little merchant’sfruit-board devouring a fine gourd with prodigious greediness. “Where,glutton, do you find money to pay for these dainties?” exclaimed hisfather, coming close up to him, with angry gestures. Piedro’s mouth wasmuch too full to make an immediate reply, nor did his father wait forany, but darting his hand into the youth’s pocket, pulled forth a handfulof silver.
“The money, father,” said Piedro, “that I got for the fish yesterday, andthat I meant to give you to-day, before you went out.”
“Then I’ll make you remember it against another time, sirrah!” said hisfather. “I’ll teach you to fill your stomach with my money. Am I tolose my customers by your tricks, and then find you here eating my all?You are a rogue, and everybody has found you out to be a rogue; and theworst of rogues I find you, who scruples not to cheat his own father.”
Saying these words, with great vehemence he seized hold of Piedro, and inthe very midst of the little fruit-market gave him a severe beating.This beating did the boy no good; it was vengeance not punishment.Piedro saw that his father was in a passion, and knew that he was beatenbecause he was found out to be a rogue, rather than for being one. Herecollected perfectly that his father once said to him: “Let everyonetake care of his own grapes.”
Indeed it was scarcely reasonable to expect that a boy who had beeneducated to think that he might cheat every customer he could in the wayof trade, should be afterwards scrupulously honest in his conduct towardsthe father whose proverbs encouraged his childhood in cunning.
Piedro writhed with bodily pain as he left the market after his drubbing,but his mind was not in the least amended. On the contrary, he washardened to the sense of shame by the loss of reputation. All the littlemerchants were spectators of this scene, and heard his father’s words:“You _are_ a rogue, and the worst of rogues, who scruples not to cheathis own father.”
These words were long remembered, and long did Piedro feel their effects.He once flattered himself that, when his trade of selling fish failedhim, he could readily engage in some other; but he now found, to hismortification, that what Francisco’s father said proved true: “In alltrades the best fortune to set up with is a good character.”
Not one of the little Neapolitan merchants would either enter intopartnership with him, give him credit, or even trade with him for readymoney. “If you would cheat your own father, to be sure you will cheatus,” was continually said to him by these prudent little people.
Piedro was taunted and treated with contempt at home and abroad. Hisfather, when he found that his son’s smartness was no longer useful inmaking bargains, shoved him out of his way whenever he met him. All thefood or clothes that he had at home seemed to be given to him grudgingly,and with such expressions as these: “Take that; but it is too good foryou. You must eat this, now, instead of gourds and figs—and be thankfulyou have even this.”
Piedro spent a whole winter very unhappily. He expected that all his oldtricks, and especially what his father had said of him in themarket-place, would be soon forgotten; but month passed after month, andstill these things were fresh in the memory of all who had known them.
It is not easy to get rid of a bad character. A very great rogue {311}was once heard to say, that he would, with all his heart, give tenthousand pounds for a good character, because he knew that he could maketwenty thousand by it.
Something like this was the sentiment of our cunning hero when heexperienced the evils of a bad reputation, and when he saw the numerousadvantages which Francisco’s good character procured. Such had beenPiedro’s wretched e
ducation, that even the hard lessons of experiencecould not alter its pernicious effects. He was sorry his knavery hadbeen detected, but he still thought it clever to cheat, and was secretlypersuaded that, if he had cheated successfully, he should have beenhappy. “But I know I am not happy now,” said he to himself one morning,as he sat alone disconsolate by the sea-shore, dressed in tatteredgarments, weak and hungry, with an empty basket beside him. Hisfishing-rod, which he held between his knees, bent over the dry sandsinstead of into the water, for he was not thinking of what he was about;his arms were folded, his head hung down, and his ragged hat was slouchedover his face. He was a melancholy spectacle.
Francisco, as he was coming from his father’s vineyard with a large dishof purple and white grapes upon his head, and a basket of melons and figshanging upon his arm, chanced to see Piedro seated in this melancholyposture. Touched with compassion, Francisco approached him softly; hisfootsteps were not heard upon the sands, and Piedro did not perceive thatanyone was near him till he felt something cold touch his hand; he thenstarted, and, looking up, saw a bunch of grapes, which Francisco washolding over his head.
“Eat them: you’ll find them very good, I hope,” said Francisco, with abenevolent smile.
“They are excellent—most excellent, and I am much obliged to you,Francisco,” said Piedro. “I was very hungry, and that’s what I am now,without anybody’s caring anything about it. I am not the favourite I waswith my father, but I know it is all my own fault.”
“Well, but cheer up,” said Francisco; “my father always says, ‘One whoknows he has been in fault, and acknowledges it, will scarcely be infault again.’ Yes, take as many figs as you will,” continued he; andheld his basket closer to Piedro, who, as he saw, cast a hungry eye uponone of the ripe figs.
“But,” said Piedro, after he had taken several, “shall not I get you intoa scrape by taking so many? Won’t your father be apt to miss them?”
“Do you think I would give them to you if they were not my own?” saidFrancisco, with a sudden glance of indignation.
“Well, don’t be angry that I asked the question; it was only from fear ofgetting you into disgrace that I asked it.”
“It would not be easy for anybody to do that, I hope,” said Francisco,rather proudly.
“And to me less than anybody,” replied Piedro, in an insinuating tone,“_I_, that am so much obliged to you!”
“A bunch of grapes, and a few figs, are no mighty obligation,” saidFrancisco, smiling; “I wish I could do more for you. You seem, indeed,to have been very unhappy of late. We never see you in the markets as weused to do.”
“No; ever since my father beat me, and called me rogue before all thechildren there, I have never been able to show my face without beinggibed at by one or t’other. If you would but take me along with youamongst them, and only just _seem_ my friend, for a day or two, or so, itwould quite set me up again; for they all like you.”
“I would rather _be_ than seem your friend, if I could,” said Francisco.
“Ay, to be sure; that would be still better,” said Piedro, observing thatFrancisco, as he uttered his last sentence, was separating the grapes andother fruits into two equal divisions. “To be sure I would rather youwould _be_ than _seem_ a friend to me; but I thought that was too much toask at first, though I have a notion, notwithstanding I have been so_unlucky_ lately—I have a notion you would have no reason to repent ofit. You would find me no bad hand, if you were to try, and take me intopartnership.”
“Partnership!” interrupted Francisco, drawing back alarmed; “I had nothoughts of that.”
“But won’t you? can’t you?” said Piedro, in a supplicating tone; “_can’t_you have thoughts of it? You’d find me a very active partner.”
Franscisco still drew back, and kept his eyes fixed upon the ground. Hewas embarrassed; for he pitied Piedro, and he scarcely knew how to pointout to him that something more is necessary in a partner in trade besidesactivity, and that is honesty.
“Can’t you?” repeated Piedro, thinking that he hesitated from merelymercenary motives. “You shall have what share of the profits youplease.”
“I was not thinking of the profits,” said Francisco; “but without meaningto be ill-natured to you, Piedro, I must say that I cannot enter into anypartnership with you at present; but I will do what, perhaps, you willlike as well,” said he, taking half the fruit out of his basket; “you areheartily welcome to this; try and sell it in the children’s fruit market.I’ll go on before you, and speak to those I am acquainted with, and tellthem you are going to set up a new character, and that you hope to makeit a good one.”
“Hey, shall I! Thank you for ever, dear Francisco,” cried Piedro,seizing his plentiful gift of fruit. “Say what you please for me.”
“But don’t make me say anything that is not true,” said Francisco,pausing.
“No, to be sure not,” said Piedro; “I _do_ mean to give no room forscandal. If I could get them to trust me as they do you, I should behappy indeed.”
“That is what you may do, if you please,” said Francisco. “Adieu, I wishyou well with all my heart; but I must leave you now, or I shall be toolate for the market.”