complete-guide

That evening, there was much merrymaking at the
dance, and a great quantity of mezcal was drunk.
"I miss Camilla," said Demetrio in a loud voice.
Everybody looked about for Camilla.
"She's sick, she's got a headache," said Agapita harshly,
uneasy as she caught sight of the malicious glances
leveled at her.
When the dance was over, Demetrio, somewhat unsteady
on his feet, thanked all the kind neighbors who
had welcomed them and promised that when the revolution
had triumphed he would remember them one and
all, because "hospital or jail is a true test of friendship."
"May God's hand lead you all," said an old woman.
"God bless you all and keep you well," others added.
Utterly drunk, Maria Antonia said:
"Come back soon, damn soon!"
On the morrow, Maria Antonia, who, though she was
pockmarked and walleyed, nevertheless enjoyed a notorious
reputation--indeed it was confidently proclaimed
that no man had failed to go with her behind the river
weeds at some time or other--shouted to Camilla:
"Hey there, you! What's the matter What are you
doing there skulking in the corner with a shawl tied
round your head! You're crying, I wager. Look at her
eyes; they look like a witch's. There's no sorrow lasts
more than three days!"
Agapita knitted her eyebrows and muttered indistinctly
to herself.
The old crones felt uneasy and lonesome since Demetrio's
men had left. The men, too, in spite of their gossip
and insults, lamented their departure since now they
would have no one to bring them fresh meat every day.
It is pleasant indeed to spend your time eating and drinking,
and sleeping all day long in the cool shade of the
rocks, while clouds ravel and unravel their fleecy threads
on the blue shuttle of the sky.