"We Did Not Give It To Him," Said The Man - "He Bore That Name When
He Came Into Our Hands; A Farmer Gave Him To Us When He Was Very
Young, And Told Us His Name Was Perro."
"And how came the farmer to call him Perro?" said I.
"I don't know," said the man - "why do you ask?"
"Perro," said I, "is a Spanish word, and signifies a dog in
general. I am rather surprised that a dog in the mountains of
Wales should be called by the Spanish word for dog." I fell into a
fit of musing. "How Spanish words are diffused! Wherever you go
you will find some Spanish word or other in use. I have heard
Spanish words used by Russian mujiks and Turkish fig-gatherers - I
have this day heard a Spanish word in the mountains of Wales, and I
have no doubt that were I to go to Iceland I should find Spanish
words used there. How can I doubt it; when I reflect that more
than six hundred years ago, one of the words to denote a bad woman
was Spanish. In the oldest of Icelandic domestic Sagas,
Skarphedin, the son of Nial the seer, called Hallgerdr, widow of
Gunnar, a puta - and that word so maddened Hallgerdr that she never
rested till she had brought about his destruction. Now, why this
preference everywhere for Spanish words over those of every other
language? I never heard French words or German words used by
Russian mujiks and Turkish fig-gatherers. I question whether I
should find any in Iceland forming part of the vernacular. I
certainly never found a French or even a German word in an old
Icelandic Saga. Why this partiality everywhere for Spanish words?
the question is puzzling; at any rate it puts me out - "
"Yes, it puts me out!" I exclaimed aloud, striking my fist on the
table with a vehemence which caused the good folks to start half up
from their seats. Before they could say anything, however, a
vehicle drove up to the door, and a man getting out came into the
room. He had a glazed hat on his head, and was dressed something
like the guard of a mail. He touched his hat to me, and called for
a glass of whiskey. I gave him the sele of the evening and entered
into conversation with him in English. In the course of discourse
I learned that he was the postman, and was going his rounds in his
cart - he was more than respectful to me, he was fawning and
sycophantic. The whiskey was brought, and he stood with the glass
in his hand. Suddenly he began speaking Welsh to the people;
before, however, he had uttered two sentences the woman lifted her
hand with an alarmed air, crying "Hush! he understands." The
fellow was turning me to ridicule. I flung my head back, closed my
eyes, opened my mouth and laughed aloud. The fellow stood aghast;
his hand trembled, and he spilt the greater part of the whiskey
upon the ground.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 185 of 450
Words from 96430 to 96945
of 235675
