Was I wrong in feeling gratitude? Had I not cause to
continue my contributions to that periodical?
When I got safe into Morella, along with the tail of the sallying party,
I was for the first time made acquainted with the ridiculous result of
the lancer's thrust (as he delivered his lance, I must tell you that a
ball came whiz over my head from our fellows, and entering at his nose,
put a stop to HIS lancing for the future). I hastened to Cabrera's
quarter, and related to him some of my adventures during the day.
"But, General," said he, "you are standing. I beg you chiudete l'uscio
(take a chair)."
I did so, and then for the first time was aware that there was some
foreign substance in the tail of my coat, which prevented my sitting
at ease. I drew out the Magazine which I had seized, and there, to my
wonder, DISCOVERED THE CHRISTINO LANCE twisted up like a fish-hook, or a
pastoral crook.
"Ha! ha! ha!" said Cabrera (who is a notorious wag).
"Valdepenas madrilenos," growled out Tristany.
"By my cachuca di caballero (upon my honor as a gentleman)," shrieked
out Ros d'Eroles, convulsed with laughter, "I will send it to the Bishop
of Leon for a crozier."
"Gahagan has CONSECRATED it," giggled out Ramon Cabrera; and so they
went on with their muchacas for an hour or more.
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