well as our own customs. You have had no fewer than twenty mozos, and while they have all left you without the least disagreement, I, Don Miguel Rodriguez, could explain all. I know why they have gone, but you don't. I am far ahead of you, poor ignorant gringo! Some day you'll know more than you do now!"
Each one in turn seemed to regret going, but at the same time showed plainly that my ideas of life and of the management of a household were far removed from his own. But without a note of warning, or an intimation of his purpose, Don Miguel took his hat in hand, turned his head across his shoulder, while the most cynical expression that could have been depicted on the face of a human being, or of a mozo, played about his eyes and mouth as I anticipated his movements, and awoke to the certainty that another faithful one had gone to join the band of invincibles.
The word pues is thrown in between sentences so generally, and has so many significations, such as, "well," "then," "therefore," "since," "surely," and many others, that it is not always easy for a stranger to settle the point. The servants, however, in pronouncing this word make an amusing abbreviation of it into "pos. " And so it was that Miguel only said, ''Pos entonces yo me voy"
("Well, now, I am going"), but his face and figure spoke volumes. I learned from each one of them in a different way, the hopelessness and folly of any attempt to
