s of the
year were genial spring. His sleep was as sound on a heap of straw as on
soft mattresses, and he made himself as snug in a hayloft as between two
Holland sheets. In short, he made such way in the profession he had
chosen, that he could have given lessons to the famous Guzman de
Alfarache.

During the three years he absented himself from home, he learned to play
at sheepshanks in Madrid, at _rentoy_ in the public-houses of Toledo,
and at _presa y pinta_ in the barbacans of Seville. In spite of the
sordid penury of his way of life, Carriazo showed himself a prince in
his actions. It was easy to see by a thousand tokens that he came of
gentle blood. His generosity gained him the esteem of all his comrades.
He seldom was present at drinking bouts; and though he drank wine, it
was in moderation, and he carried it well. He was not one of those
unlucky drinkers, who whenever they exceed a little, show it immediately
in their faces, which look as if they were painted with vermilion or red
ochre. In short, the world beheld in Carriazo a virtuous, honourable,
well-bred, rogue, of more than common ability. He passed through all
the degrees of roguery till he graduated as a master in the tunny
fisheries of Zahara, the chief school of the art. O kitchen-walloping
rogues, fat and shining with grease; feigned cripples; cutpurses of
Zocodober and of the Plaza of Madrid; sanctimonious patterers of
prayers; Seville porters; bullies of the Hampa, and all the countless
host comprised under the denomination of rogues! never presume to call
yourself by that name if you have not gone through two courses, at
least, in the academy of the tunny fisheries. There it is that you may
see converging as it were in one grand focus, toil and idleness, filth
and spruceness, sharp set hunger and lavish plenty, vice without
disguise, incessant gambling, brawls and quarrels every hour in the day,
murders every now and then, ribaldry and obscenity, singing, dancing,
laughing, swearing, cheating, and thieving without end. There many a man
of quality seeks for his truant son, nor seeks in vain; and the youth
feels as acutely the pain of being torn from that life of licence as
though he were going to meet his death. But this joyous life has its
bitters as well as its sweets. No one can lie down to sleep securely in
Zahara, but must always have the dread hanging over him of being carried
off to Barbary at any moment. For this reason, they all withdraw a