Everybody in this country prospers but us!" He made his way to his house, or rather Capitan Tiago's, now occupied by a trustworthy man who had held him in great esteem since the day when he had seen him perform a surgical operation with the same coolness that he would cut up a chicken.

This man was now waiting to give him the news.

Two of the laborers were prisoners, one was to be deported, and a number of carabaos had died.
"The same old story," exclaimed Basilio, in a bad humor.

"You always receive me with the same complaints." The youth was not overbearing, but as he was at times scolded by Capitan Tiago, he liked in his turn to chide those under his orders.
The old man cast about for something new.

"One of our tenants has died, the old fellow who took care of the woods, and the curate refused to bury him as a pauper, saying that his master is a rich man." "What did he die of ?" "Of old age." "Get out! To die of old age! It must at least have been some disease." Basilio in his zeal for making autopsies wanted diseases.
"Haven't you anything new to tell me?
You take away my appetite relating the same old things.