sea were poison proof, and they could
sip gallons of that imitation "Venezuela" with the gusto of sybarites.
Nothing to beat chocolate! Drink a lot of it if you wanted to last
beyond your apportioned three-score and ten! And eagerly the aged
cronies sniffed at the bluish steam that was rising from the plain white
cups before dipping pieces of bread into the muddy paste and raising
them, dripping brown, to the toothless caverns of their mouths. The two
girls sat there, however, barely touching the good things in front of
them, their chins on their breasts and avoiding each other's eyes. But
when _tia_ Picores's cup was almost empty her thundering voice came out
to change the situation. "Did you ever see such a pair of sillies! Still
mad, still mad! Well, well, the girls in the Market these days are not
what they used to be! Once their faces are out of joint, there's no
ironing them out again! Mad once, mad for always, eh! Couldn't be worse
if they were tony folks up town! No, there's something wrong with the
hearts of girls nowadays. And if you don't believe it just see here. Is
there one of you at this table that at some time or other hasn't had her
hair pulled or her face slapped by me? No! Not a one. What's more, I'll
bet that if any one of you were to show the place you sit on, you'd find
the scars of where I beat you with a hob-nailed shoe. No? Well, there
you are! And we've never been better friends, and we're ready to stand
by when any one of us gets into trouble. And that's the way for people
to be. Quick-tempered? Very well. But ready to make up afterwards, like
honest Christians. Leave your grumps at the door and have a cup of
chocolate, say I. And that's what my old ma said, in her day. And that's
what the Fishmarket people always said. 'Don't swallow hard feelings!
Throats are made for chocolate, white bread and _quinset_,' as the old
song runs:

_'Pesar, d'asi no has de pasar._
_Chocolat, bollet, y got de quinset!_'"

And although the glasses they had before them were not of "quinset,"
since the season for ices had not yet come, all the old women, to show
their approval of the philosophy expounded, drank their lemon-water
instead with gulps and gapes of satisfaction. _Tia_ Picores, meanwhile,
was getting angry at the steadfast balkiness of the two rivals. "Well,
now, speak up, numskulls! Haven't you tongues in your heads? You're
going to stick to it, I suppose. You think I am talking just to hear