Page 477 - Microsoft Word - Belicena respaldo

I was savouring the dessert, sweet chayote with nuts, when a child in rags offered me to
shine my boots.

There’s an age –I thought with dejection– the childhood, in which all the animals of the
nature employ to play and romp, protected by their fathers and other adult members of the
population. The human being instead, can’t guarantee to their children the enjoyment of the
most beautiful age as it must be lived: enjoying of the fantasy.

By principle, I hate that children work with profit purposes and my first impulse was to
take away such bootblack; but an idea had occurred to me in that instant and I extended the
right feet in mute acceptation. Was a child of some seven years old and doubtless Indian
ascendancy. He started cleaning and covering with ointment the boots, to then, by means of
vigorous massages with a canvas band, try to obtain the desired brightness.

–What is your name? –I asked, seeking to gain his trust.

–Antonia Huanca, Sir –He replied rapidly.

–Tell me Antonio, Do you live far from here?

He lifted his long-maned head and looked at me with an interrogative gesture in the
eyes. Finally he shrugged his shoulders and signalizing an indefinite place said:

–Very far Sir, over there, on the other side of the river.

I decided that my question had been unfortunate. I should try again, but this time I’d be
more direct:

–Do you know the street Esquiú?

–Yes, Sir; is at the end of the city. If you go straight by this one –He signalized the street
of the restaurant– you’ll find it at the end of the pavement. Just when the pavement ends is
the street Esquiú, yes Sir.

He was talking without stop polishing and at this rate he would end soon. I bent down a
little to talk without raise the voice and said him:

–I’m going to see Cerino Sanguedolce, do you know him?

He laughed.

–The confectioner? Who don’t know Don Cerino, Sir?

He stretched his head and said my in tone of confidence:

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