went to the stable
to feed his horse. He loved the animal, and took as great care of it
as a father would of a son.

One day Uncle Diego noticed that Juan's horse was growing fatter and
more beautiful than any of his own animals. In his envy he killed the
horse of his nephew, and said to the innocent boy that the animal had
been stricken by "bad air." Being thus deprived of his sole wealth,
Juan cut off the best meat from the dead horse, and with this food
for his only provision he set out to seek his fortune in another
country. On his way through a forest he came across an old man dying
of starvation; but the old man had with him a bag full of money.

"Pray," said the old man, talking with difficulty in his pain and
weakness, "what have you in your sack, my son?"

"Some dried horse-meat," said Juan.

"Let me see!" The old man looked into the sack, and saw with watering
mouth the sweet-smelling meat. "Will you exchange your sack of meat
for my sack of money?" he said to Juan. "I have money here, but I
cannot eat it. Nor can I go to the town to buy food, because I am too
weak. Since you are stronger, my son, pray take this sack of money in
exchange, and go to the town and buy meat with it for yourself. For
God's sake, leave this meat to me! I am starving to death."

Juan accepted the money in exchange for his meat, and pretended to
feel great pity for the old man. He put the heavy bag of money on his
shoulder, and with difficulty carried it home. "Uncle Diego!" Juan
called out from the foot of his uncle's ladder, "come here! Please
come here and help me carry this bag upstairs!"

"Tremendous sum of money," Uncle Diego remarked to his nephew. "Where
did you get it?"

"I sold the meat of my dead horse. This is what I got for it,"
said Juan.

The uncle once more became jealous of Juan. "If with only one horse,"
he muttered to himself, "he could gain so much money, how much should I
get for my fifteen horses!" So he killed all the horses he had in his
stable and cut the meat from them. Then he placed the meat in bags,
and, carrying two on his shoulders, he cried as he went along the
street, "Meat, meat! Horse-meat! Who wishes to buy fresh horse-meat?"

"How much?" asked a gray-headed old woman who was looking out of
the window.

"Three hundred ninety-nine thousand pesos, ninety-nine pesetas,
six and one half centavos a pound," said Uncle Diego.

The people who heard him only laughed, and thought that something