Oil V, Butter 



theless good butter is a good thing ; and we eat it, because 

 we know it to be so, in spite of all the disagreeable ideas 

 which are connected with its origin. But of oil, from 

 unfamiliarity, we have an abhorrence. Our first acquaint- 

 ance with it in childhood is through that unencouraging 

 sample called after the elder of the constellated twins ; our 

 next is in the smell of the lamp. When subsequently we see 

 oil in a salad, it shocks our prejudices. On tasting it with 

 a candid determination, we find it good ; but still there are 

 few Englishmen who, in tasting a sample of oil, would 

 swallow a spoonful, which a Spaniard would do as uncon- 

 cernedly as we should a spoonful of cream. I have the 

 national horror of oil, but I cannot say that, on honest 

 experiment, I find that in good cookery it is a bit worse 

 than the best butter ; and in some cases it is better. 



After breakfast, I drew a likeness of the cura. We then 

 went out to see the labourers at work, for it was past 

 twelve. I took my pistol, and discharged its six barrels in 

 succession at the trunk of an old olive-tree. The cura^ as 

 well as the olive-tree, was much struck, and the people 

 astonished. The labourers were finishing their dinners, and 

 I took a sketch of the group, which was very picturesque, 

 being composed of men, women, and children, in very hete- 

 rogeneous attire and attitudes. After this I took another 

 sketch of the donkeys, with their great eitera (matting) 

 panniers on their backs, resting under the trees, waiting to 

 carry away the fruit. The sun was very pleasant, and 

 having finished my sketches, I spread my cloak, and lying 

 upon it, with my head on a pannier, and a cigarillo in my 

 mouth, I went to sleep, and did not wake till three o'clock. 

 The marques, who woke up about the same time, proposed 

 that we should return to the hacienda mounted on the 

 donkeys, which we accordingly did. 



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