“They are excellent—most excellent, and I am much obliged to you, Francisco,” said Piedro. “I was very hungry, and that’s what I am now, without anybody’s caring anything about it. I am not the favourite I was with my father, but I know it is all my own fault.” “Well, but cheer up,” said Francisco; “my father always says, ‘One who knows he has been in fault, and acknowledges it, will scarcely be in fault again.’ Yes, take as many figs as you will,” continued he; and held his basket closer to Piedro, who, as he saw, cast a hungry eye upon one of the ripe figs. “But,” said Piedro, after he had taken several, “shall not I get you into a scrape by taking so many? Won’t your father be apt to miss them?” “Do you think I would give them to you if they were not my own?” said Francisco, with a sudden glance of indignation. “Well, don’t be angry that I asked the question; it was only from fear of getting you into disgrace that I asked it.” “It would not be easy for anybody to do that, I hope,” said Francisco, rather proudly. “And to me less than anybody,” replied Piedro, in an insinuating tone, “_I_, that am so much obliged to you!” “A bunch of grapes, and a few figs, are no mighty obligation,” said Francisco, smiling; “I wish I could do more for you. You seem, indeed, to have been very unhappy of late. We never see you in the markets as we used to do.” “No; ever since my father beat me, and called me rogue before all the children there, I have never been able to show my face without being gibed at by one or t’other. If you would but take me along with you amongst them, and only just _seem_ my friend, for a day or two, or so, it would quite set me up again; for they all like you.” “I would rather _be_ than seem your friend, if I could,” said Francisco. “Ay, to be sure; that would be still better,” said Piedro, observing that Francisco, as he uttered his last sentence, was separating the grapes and other fruits into two equal divisions. “To be sure I would rather you would _be_ than _seem_ a friend to me; but I thought that was too much to ask at first, though I have a notion, notwithstanding I have been so _unlucky_ lately—I have a notion you would have no reason to repent of it. You would find me no bad hand, if you were to try, and take me into partnership.” “Partnership!” interrupted Francisco, drawing back alarmed; “I had no thoughts of that.” “But won’t you? can’t you?” said Piedro, in a supplicating tone; “_can’t_ you have thoughts of it? You’d find me a very active partner.” Franscisco still drew back, and kept his eyes fixed upon the ground. He was embarrassed; for he pitied Piedro, and he scarcely knew how to point out to him that something more is necessary in a partner in trade besides activity, and that is honesty. “Can’t you?” repeated Piedro, thinking that he hesitated from merely mercenary motives. “You shall have what share of the profits you please.”