Whenever we ate, he kept a jar of wine near him; and I adopted the practice of bestowing on it sundry loving though stolen embraces.  The fervency of my attachment was soon discovered in the deficiency of the wine, and the old man tied the jar to himself by the handle.  I now procured a large straw, which I dipped into the mouth of the jar; but the old traitor must have heard me drink with it, for he placed the jar between his knees, keeping the mouth closed with his hand.

I then bored a small hole in the bottom of the jar, and closed it very delicately with wax.  As the poor old man sat over the fire, with the jar between his knees, the heat melted the wax, and I, placing my mouth underneath, received the whole contents of the jar.  The old boy was so enraged and surprised that he thought the devil himself had been at work.  But he discovered the hole; and when next day I placed myself under the jar, he brought the jar down with full force on my mouth.  Nearly all my teeth were broken, and my face was horribly cut with the fragments of the broken vessel.

After this, he continually ill-treated me; on the slightest occasion he would flog me without mercy.  If any humane person interfered, he immediately recounted the history of the jar; they would laugh, and say, “Thrash him well, good man; he deserves it richly!” I determined to revenge myself on the old tyrant, and seized an opportunity on a rainy day when a stream was flowing down the street.  I took him to a point where the stream passed a stone pillar, told him that the water was narrowest there, and invited him to jump.  He jumped accordingly, and gave his poor old pate such a smash against the pillar that he fell senseless.  I took to my heels as swiftly as possible; nor did I even trouble to inquire what became of him.

II.—­The Priest

The next day I went to a place called Maqueda, where, as it were in punishment for my evil deeds, I fell in with a certain priest.  I accosted him for alms, when he inquired whether I knew how to assist at mass.  I answered that I did, which was true, for the blind man had taught me.  The priest, therefore, engaged me on the spot.

There is an old proverb which speaks of getting out of the frying-pan into the fire, which was indeed my unhappy case in this change of masters.  This priest was, without exception, the most niggardly of all miserable devils I have ever met with.  He had a large old chest, the key of which he always carried about him; and when the charity bread came from the church, he would with his own hands deposit it in the chest and turn the key.  The only other eatable we had was a string of onions, of which every fourth day I was allowed one.  Five farthings’ worth of meat was his allowance for dinner and supper.  It is true he divided the broth with me; but my share of the meat I might have put in my eye instead of my mouth, and have been none the worse for it; but sometimes, by good luck, I got a little morsel of bread.