Little Piedro, who used to bask in the sun upon the sea-shore beside his father, and to lounge or sleep away his time in a fishing-boat, acquired habits of idleness, which seemed to his father of little consequence whilst he was _but a child_. “What will you do with Piedro as he grows up, neighbour?” said the gardener. “He is smart and quick enough, but he is always in mischief. Scarcely a day has passed for this fortnight but I have caught him amongst my grapes. I track his footsteps all over my vineyard.” “_He is but a child_ yet, and knows no better,” replied the fisherman. “But if you don’t teach him better now he is a child, how will he know when he is a man?” said the gardener. “A mighty noise about a bunch of grapes, truly!” cried the fisherman: “a few grapes more or less in your vineyard, what does it signify?” “I speak for your son’s sake, and not for the sake of my grapes,” said the gardener; “and I tell you again, the boy will not do well in the world, neighbour, if you don’t look after him in time.” “He’ll do well enough in the world, you will find,” answered the fisherman, carelessly. “Whenever he casts my nets, they never come up empty. ‘It is better to be lucky than wise.’” {303a} This was a proverb which Piedro had frequently heard from his father, and to which he most willingly trusted, because it gave him less trouble to fancy himself fortunate than to make himself wise. “Come here, child,” said his father to him, when he returned home after the preceding conversation with the gardener; “how old are you, my boy?—twelve years old, is not it?” “As old as Francisco, and older by six months,” said Piedro. “And smarter and more knowing by six years,” said his father. “Here, take these fish to Naples, and let us see how you’ll sell them for me. Venture a small fish, as the proverb says, to catch a great one. {303b} I was too late with them at the market yesterday, but nobody will know but what they are just fresh out of the water, unless you go and tell them.” “Not I; trust me for that; I’m not such a fool,” replied Piedro, laughing; “I leave that to Francisco. Do you know, I saw him the other day miss selling a melon for his father by turning the bruised side to the customer, who was just laying down the money for it, and who was a raw servant-boy, moreover—one who would never have guessed there were two sides to a melon, if he had not, as you say, father, been told of it?” “Off with you to market. You are a droll chap,” said his father, “and will sell my fish cleverly, I’ll be bound. As to the rest, let every man take care of his own grapes. You understand me, Piedro?”