complete-guide

"How much do you want for them"
Pancracio frowned in bewilderment.
"Give me a nickel for those with pictures, see. I'll
give you the rest for nothing if you buy all those with pictures."
The man returned with a large basket to carry away
the books. . . .
"Come on, Demetrio, come on, you pig, get up! Look
who's here! It's Blondie. You don't know what a fine
man he is!"
"I like you very much, General Macias, and I like
the way you do things. So if it's all right, I'd like very
much to serve under you!"
"What's your rank" Demetrio asked him.
"I'm a captain, General."
"All right, you can serve with me now. I'll make you
major. How's that"
Blondie was a round little fellow, with waxed mustache.
When he laughed, his blue eyes disappeared mischievously
between his forehead and his fat cheeks. He
had been a waiter at "El Monico," in Chihuahua; now
he proudly wore three small brass bars, the insignia of
his rank in the Northern Division.
Blondie showered eulogy after eulogy on Demetrio and
his men; this proved sufficient reason for bringing out a
fresh case of beer, which was finished in short order.
Suddenly War Paint reappeared in the middle of the
room, wearing a beautiful silk dress covered with exquisite
lace.
"You forgot the stockings," Blondie shouted, shaking
with laughter. Quail's girl also burst out laughing. But
War Paint did not care. She shrugged her shoulders indifferently,
sat down on the floor, kicked off her white
satin slippers, and wiggled her toes happily, giving their
muscles a freedom welcome after their tight confinement