t before long there will not be a tavern, a victualing house, an
inn, or a barber's shop but will have the story of our deeds painted
along it. But I could wish that it may be done by the hands of a
better painter than he that drew these."--"Thou art in the right,
Sancho," said Don Quixote; "for this artist is like Orbaneja, a
painter who was in Ubeda, who, being asked what he was painting, made
answer, 'Whatever it shall turn out;' and if he chanced to draw a
cock, he under-wrote, 'This is a cock,' lest any should take it for a
fox. Of the same sort, it seems to me, Sancho, must be the painter or
the writer (for it is all one) who produced the story of this new Don
Quixote that has lately come out, for he painted or wrote 'whatever
should turn out.' Or he must be like a poet called Mauleon, who went
about Madrid some years ago, and would give answers extempore to any
questions, and when somebody asked what was the meaning of 'Deum de
Deo,' answered, 'Done as one can do.'

"But setting this aside, tell me, Sancho, if you think of taking
another turn to-night? and would you rather do it under a roof or in
the open air?"--"Why, truly, sir," quoth Sancho, "as to what I think
of giving myself, it may be done as well at home as in the fields, but
withal I could like it to be among trees; for methinks they keep me
company, and help me marvelously to bear my sufferings."

THE RETURN AND DEATH OF DON QUIXOTE

_By Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra_

Finally, surrounded by boys, and attended by the curate and the
bachelor, they entered the village, and got to Don Quixote's house,
where they found at the door his housekeeper and his niece, that had
already got the news of their arrival. Neither more nor less had been
told to Teresa Panza, Sancho's wife, who, with her hair about her
ears, and half dressed, dragging by the hand her daughter Sanchica,
came running to see her husband. But when she found that he was not so
well dressed as she thought a governor ought to be, she said to him,
"What is the meaning of this, husband? You look as though you had come
on foot, and tired off your legs! Why, you come more like a groveler
than a governor!"--"Peace, Teresa," answered Sancho; "many a time when
there are hooks, there are no flitches. Let us go home, and then I
will tell thee wonders. I have taken care of the main chance. Money I
have, which is the chief thing, earned by my own industry with