Piedro’s father, amongst others, had reason to complain. He saw his own customers fall off from him, and was told, whenever he went into the market, that his son was such a cheat there was no dealing with him. One day, when he was returning from the market in a very bad humour, in consequence of these reproaches, and of his not having found customers for his goods, he espied his _smart_ son Piedro at a little merchant’s fruit-board devouring a fine gourd with prodigious greediness. “Where, glutton, do you find money to pay for these dainties?” exclaimed his father, coming close up to him, with angry gestures. Piedro’s mouth was much too full to make an immediate reply, nor did his father wait for any, but darting his hand into the youth’s pocket, pulled forth a handful of silver. “The money, father,” said Piedro, “that I got for the fish yesterday, and that I meant to give you to-day, before you went out.” “Then I’ll make you remember it against another time, sirrah!” said his father. “I’ll teach you to fill your stomach with my money. Am I to lose my customers by your tricks, and then find you here eating my all? You are a rogue, and everybody has found you out to be a rogue; and the worst of rogues I find you, who scruples not to cheat his own father.” Saying these words, with great vehemence he seized hold of Piedro, and in the very midst of the little fruit-market gave him a severe beating. This beating did the boy no good; it was vengeance not punishment. Piedro saw that his father was in a passion, and knew that he was beaten because he was found out to be a rogue, rather than for being one. He recollected perfectly that his father once said to him: “Let everyone take care of his own grapes.” Indeed it was scarcely reasonable to expect that a boy who had been educated to think that he might cheat every customer he could in the way of trade, should be afterwards scrupulously honest in his conduct towards the father whose proverbs encouraged his childhood in cunning. Piedro writhed with bodily pain as he left the market after his drubbing, but his mind was not in the least amended. On the contrary, he was hardened to the sense of shame by the loss of reputation. All the little merchants were spectators of this scene, and heard his father’s words: “You _are_ a rogue, and the worst of rogues, who scruples not to cheat his own father.” These words were long remembered, and long did Piedro feel their effects. He once flattered himself that, when his trade of selling fish failed him, he could readily engage in some other; but he now found, to his mortification, that what Francisco’s father said proved true: “In all trades the best fortune to set up with is a good character.”