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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
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