The listless men with the universal poncho--an
oblong mantle of variegated cotton or woollen, through a hole in the
centre of which the head is thrust, allowing the garment to hang in folds
about the person--looked as if they had been roused suddenly from their
beds, and not finding their coats at hand, had walked out with their
coverlets over their shoulders. The women, too, in their loose dresses and
with shawls thrown carelessly over their heads, had a very bed-chamber
look. They were mostly pretty brunettes, with large, slumbering black
eyes, which, however, were sufficiently awake to ogle effectively.
Having a letter of introduction to present, I entered the counting-house
of the merchant whose acquaintance I sought. I found him boxed off at the
further end of his long, heaped-up warehouse. He had closed his ledger,
lighted his cigar, and had just filled his glass from a bottle of wine
which stood on the window-sill, when I entered. I was not surprised,
under such provocation to good fellowship, to receive a warm welcome. My
mercantile friend was in the best possible humor, for times, he said, were
very good. Every one at Valparaiso was making his fortune.
Pages:
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166