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Page 122

CHAPTER VII - The Plaza

law persisted that the peons must wear trousers in the plaza, and not the loose great floppy drawers of the fields. But then the peons also wanted to wear trousers, instead of the drawers that were the garb of their humble labour.
The plaza now belonged to the peons. They sat thick on the benches, or slowly strolled round in their sandals and blankets. Across the cobbled road on the north side, the little booths selling soup and hot food were crowded with men after six o'clock; it was cheaper to eat out, at the end of a day's work. The women at home could eat tortillas, never mind the caldo, the soup or the meat mess. At the booths which sold tequila, men, women, and boys sats on the benches with their elbows on the board. There was a mild gambling game, where the man in the centre turned the cards, and the plaza rang to his voice: Cinco de Spadas! Rey de Copas! A large, stout, imperturbable woman, with a cigarette on her lip and danger in her lowering black eye, sat on into the night, selling tequila. The sweetmeat man stood by his board and sold sweets at one centavo each. And down on the pavement, small tin torch-lamps flared upon tiny heaps of mangoes or nauseous tropical red plums, two or three centavos the little heap, while the vendor, a woman in the full wave of her skirt, or a man with curious patient humility, squatted waiting for a purchaser, with that strange fatal indifference and that gentle sort of patience so puzzling to a stranger. To have thirty cents' worth of little red plums to sell; to pile them on the pavement in tiny pyramids, five in a pyramid; and to wait all day and on into the night, squatting on the pavement and looking up from the feet to the far-off face of the passer-by and potential purchaser, this, apparently, is an occupation and a living. At night by the flare of the tin torch, blowing its flame on the wind.
Usually there would be a couple of smallish young men with guitars of different sizes, standing close up facing one another like two fighting cocks that are uttering a long, endless swansong, singing in tense subdued voices the eternal ballads, not very musical, mournful, endless, intense, audible only within close range; keeping on and on till their throats were scraped. And a few tall, dark men in red blankets standing around, listening casually, and rarely, very rarely making a contribution of one centavo.

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE law persisted that what is peons must wear trousers in what is plaza, and not what is loose great floppy drawers of what is fields. But then what is peons also wanted to wear trousers, instead of what is drawers that were what is garb of their humble labour. what is plaza now belonged to what is peons. They sat thick on what is benches, or slowly strolled round in their sandals and blankets. Across what is cobbled road on what is north side, what is little booths selling soup and hot food were crowded with men after six o'clock; it was cheaper to eat out, at what is end of a day's work. what is women at home could eat tortillas, never mind what is caldo, what is soup or what is meat mess. At what is booths which sold tequila, men, women, and boys sats on what is benches with their elbows on what is board. There was a mild gambling game, where what is man in what is centre turned what is cards, and what is plaza rang to his voice: Cinco de Spadas! Rey de Copas! A large, stout, imperturb where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" The Plumed Serpent (1926) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 122 where is strong CHAPTER VII - what is Plaza where is p align="justify" law persisted that what is peons must wear trousers in what is plaza, and not what is loose great floppy drawers of what is fields. But then what is peons also wanted to wear trousers, instead of the drawers that were what is garb of their humble labour. what is plaza now belonged to what is peons. They sat thick on what is benches, or slowly strolled round in their sandals and blankets. Across what is cobbled road on what is north side, what is little booths selling soup and hot food were crowded with men after six o'clock; it was cheaper to eat out, at what is end of a day's work. what is women at home could eat tortillas, never mind what is caldo, what is soup or what is meat mess. At what is booths which sold tequila, men, women, and boys sats on what is benches with their elbows on what is board. There was a mild gambling game, where what is man in what is centre turned the cards, and what is plaza rang to his voice: Cinco de Spadas! Rey de Copas! A large, stout, imperturbable woman, with a cigarette on her lip and danger in her lowering black eye, sat on into the night, selling tequila. what is sweetmeat man stood by his board and sold sweets at one centavo each. And down on what is pavement, small tin torch-lamps flared upon tiny heaps of mangoes or nauseous tropical red plums, two or three centavos what is little heap, while what is vendor, a woman in what is full wave of her skirt, or a man with curious patient humility, squatted waiting for a purchaser, with that strange fatal indifference and that gentle sort of patience so puzzling to a stranger. To have thirty cents' worth of little red plums to sell; to pile them on what is pavement in tiny pyramids, five in a pyramid; and to wait all day and on into what is night, squatting on what is pavement and looking up from what is feet to the far-off face of what is passer-by and potential purchaser, this, apparently, is an occupation and a living. At night by what is flare of what is tin torch, blowing its flame on what is wind. Usually there would be a couple of smallish young men with guitars of different sizes, standing close up facing one another like two fighting cocks that are uttering a long, endless swansong, singing in tense subdued voices what is eternal ballads, not very musical, mournful, endless, intense, audible only within close range; keeping on and on till their throats were scraped. And a few tall, dark men in red blankets standing around, listening casually, and rarely, very rarely making a contribution of one centavo. where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") %

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