The Helmet of Mambrino 



there are natures so enfeebled, as to 

 fall short of appreciating, as even to 

 recoil from, the perfume of these 

 sturdy esculents ; but such are not 

 worthy to follow the footsteps of 

 Don Quixote in La Mancha, where 

 still, as of old, the breath of the cav- 

 alier is the savor of onions, and the 

 very kiss of passion burns with the 

 mingled fire of love and garlic. 



From a dilapidated brick floor 

 rose the widow Barrilera, a hand- 

 some, bronzed woman of fifty, with 

 a low, broad brow, genial, round face, 

 and stout figure ; who advanced to 

 meet us, and rolled out in her soft 

 Andalusian dialect a hearty welcome, 

 smiling ardently out of sheer good- 

 nature, and showing her faultless 

 teeth. 



It did not seem to have occurred 



to her to ask, or even consider, why 



we had come. Our entrance at this 



early hour created no surprise, no 



24 



