Yes, there is, too. You can help
carry the things down to the booth; for we are short of hands now,
with Juan Can in bed, and Luigo gone to Ventura for the doctor.
You and some of your men might carry all the supper over. I'll call
you when we are ready."
The men sat down in a group and waited contentedly, smoking,
chatting, and laughing. Alessandro walked up and down between
the kitchen and the shed. He could hear the sounds of rattling
dishes, jingling spoons, frying, pouring water. Savory smells began
to be wafted out. Evidently old Marda meant to atone for the
shortcoming of the noon. Juan Can, in his bed, also heard and
smelled what was going on. "May the fiends get me," he growled,
"if that wasteful old hussy isn't getting up a feast for those beasts
of Indians! There's mutton and onions, and peppers stewing, and
potatoes, I'll be bound, and God knows what else, for beggars that
are only too thankful to get a handful of roasted wheat or a bowl of
acorn porridge at home. Well, they'll have to say they were well
feasted at the Moreno's, -- that's one comfort.
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