He Was Quite A Little Man, Not
More Than An Inch Or Two Over Five Feet High, Slim, With A Narrow
Waist And Small Ladylike Hands And Feet.
His small oval face was the
colour of old parchment; he had large dark pathetic eyes, a
beautifully shaped black moustache, and long black hair, worn in
symmetrical ringlets to his shoulders.
In his dress too he was
something of an exquisite. He wore the picturesque gaucho costume; a
_camiseta_, or blouse, of the finest black cloth, profusely decorated
with silver buttons, puffs and pleats, and scarlet and green
embroidery; a _chiripa_, the shawl-like garment worn in place of
trousers, of the finest yellow or vicuna-coloured wool, the white
carsoncillos_, or wide drawers, showing below, of the finest linen,
with more fringe and lace-work than was usual in that garment. His
boots were well polished, and his poncho, or cloak, of the finest
blue cloth, lined with scarlet.
It must have taken Don Anastacio a couple of hours each morning to get
himself up in this fashion, ringlets and all, and once up he did
nothing but sit in the living-room, sipping bitter mate and taking
part from time to time in the general conversation, speaking always in
low but impressive tones. He would say something about the weather,
the lack or superabundance of water, according to the season, the
condition of his animals and the condition of the pasture - in fact,
just what everybody else was saying but of more importance as coming
from him.
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