Don Alonso resolved to send his son to a boarding-school; both to wean him from his tender keeping at home, and at the same time to ease himself of that care. He was informed there was a master of arts in Segovia whose name was Cabra, that made it his business to breed up gentlemen's sons;[8] thither he sent his, and me to wait on him. The first Sunday after Lent we were brought into the house of famine, for it is impossible to express the penury of the place. The master was a skeleton, a mere shotten herring, or like a long slender cane, with a little head upon it, and red haired; so that there needs no more to be said to such as know the proverb, that "neither cat nor dog of that colour is good." His eyes were sunk into his head, as if he had looked through a fruit bottle, or the deep windows in a linen draper's shop; his nose turning up, and somewhat flat, for the bridge was almost carried away with an inundation of a cold rheum, for he never had the disease, because it costs money; his beard had lost its colour for fear of his mouth, which being so near, seemed to threaten to eat it for mere hunger; his teeth had many of them forsaken him for want of employment, or else were banished for being idle livers; his neck as long as a crane's, with the gullet sticking out so far, as if it had been compelled by necessity to start out for sustenance; his arms withered; his hands like a bundle of twigs, each of them, taken downwards, looking like a fork or a pair of compasses; with long slender legs. He walked leisurely, and whensoever he happened to move any thing faster his bones rattled like a pair of snappers. His voice was weak and hollow; his beard bushy and long, for he never trimmed to save charges, though he pretended it was so odious to him to feel the barber's hands all over his face that he would rather die than endure it. One of the boys cut his hair. In fair weather he wore a thread-bare cap, an inch thick in grease and dirt, made of a thing that was once cloth, and lined in scurf and dandruff. His cassock, some said, was miraculous, for no man knew what colour it was of; some seeing no sign of hair on it, concluded it was made of frogs' skins; others said it was a mere shadow, or a phantom; near at hand it looked somewhat black, and at a distance bluish. He wore no girdle, cuffs, nor band; so that his long hair and scanty short cassock made him look like the messenger of death. Each shoe might have served for a Philistine's coffin. As for his chamber, there was not so much as a cob-web in it, the spiders being all starved to death. He put spells upon the mice, for fear they should gnaw some scraps of bread he kept. His bed was on the floor, and he always lay upon one side, for fear of wearing out the sheets; in short, he was the Archpauper and Protomiser. Into this prodigy's hands I fell, and lived under him with Don Diego. The night we came, he showed us our room, and