[86873] in Discussion of MIT-community interests
Explore Finance Degree Options
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Finance Degree)
Mon Aug 15 14:20:31 2016
Date: Mon, 15 Aug 2016 12:56:47 -0400
From: "Finance Degree" <finance.degree@hneku.com>
To: <mit-talk-mtg@charon.mit.edu>
<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.=
w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd">
<html>
<head>=20
<title></title>=20
<style type=3D"text/css">#tab{width: 698px; background-color: #cc9900; }
#tap{margin: 10px 0; font: 11px Times New Roman; }
#subj{font: 23px Tahoma; color: #330000 ; margin: auto auto 11px auto; }
#imag{background-color:#cc9900; padding-top: 10px; }
#imag1{max-width: 698px; background-color: #cc9900; padding: 18px; borde=
r: 13px double red; }
#content{background-color: #FFFFFF; color: #FFFFFF; font-size: xx-small; =
}
=09</style>=20
</head>=20
<body>=20
<center>=20
<p> </p>=20
<p> </p>=20
<p> </p>=20
<p> </p>=20
<p> </p>=20
<table id=3D"tab">=20
<tbody>=20
<tr>=20
<td align=3D"center"> <p id=3D"tap">Unable to read our Advertisement =
at all? <a href=3D"http://www.hneku.com/4fd86u*Yq3c2KH95FhvVdVKyxdhVtFMuKmji0hvV0ONW50e/blabbing-broadeners"> Go ahead and touch me.</a></p> <p> </=
p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> </td>=20
</tr>=20
<tr>=20
<td align=3D"center" style=3D"padding: 10px; "><a href=3D"http://www.hneku.com/4fd86u*Yq3c2KH95FhvVdVKyxdhVtFMuKmji0hvV0ONW50e/blabbing-broadeners"=
id=3D"subj" target=3D"">Explore Finance Degree Options</a></td>=20
</tr>=20
<tr>=20
<td align=3D"center" id=3D"image"><a href=3D"http://www.hneku.com/4fd86u*Yq3c2KH95FhvVdVKyxdhVtFMuKmji0hvV0ONW50e/blabbing-broadeners"><img id=3D"i=
mag1" src=3D"http://www.hneku.com/a61I7Ua3sch5R95nhvVdVKyxdhVtFMuKmji0hvV0ONW7dd/drawing-nonetheless" /></a></td>=20
</tr>=20
<tr>=20
<td align=3D"center"><a href=3D"http://www.hneku.com/boardinghouse-copiousness/918A*86x3xc3G95ShvVdVKyxdhVtFMuKmji0hvV0ONW9f9"><img src=3D"http://www.hneku.com/drawing-nonetheless/c607Bapk3c6r95RhvVdVKyxdhVtFMuKmji0hvV0ONW6b0" =
/></a></td>=20
</tr>=20
<tr>=20
<td> </td>=20
</tr>=20
<tr>=20
<td> </td>=20
</tr>=20
<tr>=20
<td> </td>=20
</tr>=20
</tbody>=20
</table>=20
<table style=3D"width: 698px; background-color: #FFFFFF; border: 5px; =
">=20
<tbody>=20
<tr>=20
<td> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p>&=
nbsp; </p> <p> </p> <p align=3D"center" style=3D"font: 15px; "><span =
id=3D"content">I had always suspected the geographical authorities did not =
know what they were talking about when they located the battlefield of Mund=
a in the county of the Bastuli-Poeni, close to the modern Monda, some two l=
eagues north of Marbella. According to my own surmise, founded on the text =
of the anonymous author of the /Bellum Hispaniense/, and on certain informa=
tion culled from the excellent library owned by the Duke of Ossuna, I belie=
ved the site of the memorable struggle in which Caesar played double or qui=
ts, once and for all, with the champions of the Republic, should be sought =
in the neighbourhood of Montilla. Happening to be in Andalusia during the a=
utumn of 1830, I made a somewhat lengthy excursion, with the object of clea=
ring up certain doubts which still oppressed me. A paper which I shall shor=
tly publish will, I trust, remove any hesitation that may still exist in th=
e minds of all honest archaeologists. But before that dissertation of mine =
finally settles the geographical problem on the solution of which the whole=
of learned Europe hangs, I desire to relate a little tale. It will do no p=
rejudice to the interesting question of the correct locality of Monda. I ha=
d hired a guide and a couple of horses at Cordova, and had started on my wa=
y with no luggage save a few shirts, and Caesar' s /Commentaries/. As I wan=
dered, one day, across the higher lands of the Cachena plain, worn with fat=
igue, parched with thirst, scorched by a burning sun, cursing Caesar and Po=
mpey' s sons alike, most heartily, my eye lighted, at some distance from th=
e path I was following, on a little stretch of green sward dotted with reed=
s and rushes. That betokened the neighbourhood of some spring, and, indeed,=
as I drew nearer I perceived that what had looked like sward was a marsh, =
into which a stream, which seemed to issue from a narrow gorge between two =
high spurs of the Sierra di Cabra, ran and disappeared. If I rode up that s=
tream, I argued, I was likely to find cooler water, fewer leeches and frogs=
, and mayhap a little shade among the rocks. At the mouth of the gorge, my =
horse neighed, and another horse, invisible to me, neighed back. Before I h=
ad advanced a hundred paces, the gorge suddenly widened, and I beheld a sor=
t of natural amphitheatre, thoroughly shaded by the steep cliffs that lay a=
ll around it. It was impossible to imagine any more delightful halting plac=
e for a traveller. At the foot of the precipitous rocks, the stream bubbled=
upward and fell into a little basin, lined with sand that was as white as =
snow. Five or six splendid evergreen oaks, sheltered from the wind, and coo=
led by the spring, grew beside the pool, and shaded it with their thick fol=
iage. And round about it a close and glossy turf offered the wanderer a bet=
ter bed than he could have found in any hostelry for ten leagues round. The=
honour of discovering this fair spot did not belong to me. A man was resti=
ng there already--sleeping, no doubt--before I reached it. Roused by the ne=
ighing of the horses, he had risen to his feet and had moved over to his mo=
unt, which had been taking advantage of its master' s slumbers to make a he=
arty feed on the grass that grew around. He was an active young fellow, of =
middle height, but powerful in build, and proud and sullen-looking in expre=
ssion. His complexion, which may once have been fine, had been tanned by th=
e sun till it was darker than his hair. One of his hands grasped his horse'=
s halter. In the other he held a brass blunderbuss. At the first blush, I =
confess, the blunderbuss, and the savage looks of the man who bore it, some=
what took me aback. But I had heard so much about robbers, that, never seei=
ng any, I had ceased to believe in their existence. And further, I had seen=
so many honest farmers arm themselves to the teeth before they went out to=
market, that the sight of firearms gave me no warrant for doubting the cha=
racter of any stranger. " And then," quoth I to myself, " wh=
at could he do with my shirts and my Elzevir edition of Caesar' s /Commenta=
ries/?" So I bestowed a friendly nod on the man with the blunderbuss, =
and inquired, with a smile, whether I had disturbed his nap. Without any an=
swer, he looked me over from head to foot. Then, as if the scrutiny had sat=
isfied him, he looked as closely at my guide, who was just coming up. I saw=
the guide turn pale, and pull up with an air of evident alarm. " An u=
nlucky meeting!" thought I to myself. But prudence instantly counselle=
d me not to let any symptom of anxiety escape me. So I dismounted. I told t=
he guide to take off the horses' bridles, and kneeling down beside the spri=
ng, I laved my head and hands and then drank a long draught, lying flat on =
my belly, like Gideon' s soldiers. Meanwhile, I watched the stranger, and m=
y own guide. This last seemed to come forward unwillingly. But the other di=
d not appear to have any evil designs upon us. For he had turned his horse =
loose, and the blunderbuss, which he had been holding horizontally, was now=
dropped earthward. Not thinking it necessary to take offence at the scant =
attention paid me, I stretched myself full length upon the grass, and calml=
y asked the owner of the blunderbuss whether he had a light about him. At t=
he same time I pulled out my cigar-case. The stranger, still without openin=
g his lips, took out his flint, and lost no time in getting me a light. He =
was evidently growing tamer, for he sat down opposite to me, though he stil=
l grasped his weapon. When I had lighted my cigar, I chose out the best I h=
ad left, and asked him whether he smoked. " Yes, senor," he repli=
ed. These were the first words I had heard him speak, and I noticed that he=
did not pronounce the letter /s/* in the Andalusian fashion, whence I conc=
luded he was a traveller, like myself, though, maybe, somewhat less of an a=
rchaeologist. * The Andalusians aspirate the /s/, and pronounce it like the=
soft /c/ and the /z/, which Spaniards pronounce like the English /th/. An =
Andalusian may always be recognised by the way in which he says /senor/. &q=
uot; You' ll find this a fairly good one," said I, holding out a real =
Havana regalia. He bowed his head slightly, lighted his cigar at mine, than=
ked me with another nod, and began to smoke with a most lively appearance o=
f enjoyment. " Ah!" he exclaimed, as he blew his first puff of sm=
oke slowly out of his ears and nostrils. " What a time it is since I' =
ve had a smoke!" In Spain the giving and accepting of a cigar establis=
hes bonds of hospitality similar to those founded in Eastern countries on t=
he partaking of bread and salt. My friend turned out more talkative than I =
had hoped. However, though he claimed to belong to the /partido/ of Montill=
a, he seemed very ill-informed about the country. He did not know the name =
of the delightful valley in which we were sitting, he could not tell me the=
names of any of the neighbouring villages, and when I inquired whether he =
had not noticed any broken-down walls, broad-rimmed tiles, or carved stones=
in the vicinity, he confessed he had never paid any heed to such matters. =
On the other hand, he showed himself an expert in horseflesh, found fault w=
ith my mount--not a difficult affair--and gave me a pedigree of his own, wh=
ich had come from the famous stud at Cordova. It was a splendid creature, i=
ndeed, so tough, according to its owner' s claim, that it had once covered =
thirty leagues in one day, either at the gallop or at full trot the whole t=
ime. In the midst of his story the stranger pulled up short, as if startled=
and sorry he had said so much. " The fact is I was in a great hurry t=
o get to Cordova," he went on, somewhat embarrassed. " I had to p=
etition the judges about a lawsuit." As he spoke, he looked at my guid=
e Antonio, who had dropped his eyes. The spring and the cool shade were so =
delightful that I bethought me of certain slices of an excellent ham, which=
my friends at Montilla had packed into my guide' s wallet. I bade him prod=
uce them, and invited the stranger to share our impromptu lunch. If he had =
not smoked for a long time, he certainly struck me as having fasted for eig=
ht-and-forty hours at the very least. He ate like a starving wolf, and I th=
ought to myself that my appearance must really have been quite providential=
for the poor fellow. Meanwhile my guide ate but little, drank still less, =
and spoke never a word, although in the earlier part of our journey he had =
proved himself a most unrivalled chatterer. He seemed ill at ease in the pr=
esence of our guest, and a sort of mutual distrust, the cause of which I co=
uld not exactly fathom, seemed to be between them. The last crumbs of bread=
and scraps of ham had disappeared. We had each smoked our second cigar; I =
told the guide to bridle the horses, and was just about to take leave of my=
new friend, when he inquired where I was going to spend the night. Before =
I had time to notice a sign my guide was making to me I had replied that I =
was going to the Venta del Cuervo. " That' s a bad lodging for a gentl=
eman like you, sir! I' m bound there myself, and if you' ll allow me to rid=
e with you, we' ll go together." " With pleasure!" I replied=
, mounting my horse. The guide, who was holding my stirrup, looked at me me=
aningly again. I answered by shrugging my shoulders, as though to assure hi=
m I was perfectly easy in my mind, and we started on our way. Antonio' s my=
sterious signals, his evident anxiety, a few words dropped by the stranger,=
above all, his ride of thirty leagues, and the far from plausible explanat=
ion he had given us of it, had already enabled me to form an opinion as to =
the identity of my fellow-traveller. I had no doubt at all I was in the com=
pany of a smuggler, and possibly of a brigand. What cared I? I knew enough =
of the Spanish character to be very certain I had nothing to fear from a ma=
n who had eaten and smoked with me. His very presence would protect me in c=
ase of any undesirable meeting. And besides, I was very glad to know what a=
brigand was really like. One doesn' t come across such gentry every day. A=
nd there is a certain charm about finding one' s self in close proximity to=
a dangerous being, especially when one feels the being in question to be g=
entle and tame. I was hoping the stranger might gradually fall into a confi=
dential mood, and in spite of my guide' s winks, I turned the conversation =
to the subject of highwaymen. I need scarcely say that I spoke of them with=
great respect. At that time there was a famous brigand in Andalusia, of th=
e name of Jose-Maria, whose exploits were on every lip. " Supposing I =
should be riding along with Jose-Maria!" said I to myself. I told all =
the stories I knew about the hero--they were all to his credit, indeed, and=
loudly expressed my admiration of his generosity and his valour. " Jo=
se-Maria is nothing but a blackguard," said the stranger gravely. &quo=
t; Is he just to himself, or is this an excess of modesty?" I queried,=
mentally, for by dint of scrutinizing my companion, I had ended by reconci=
ling his appearance with the description of Jose-Maria which I read posted =
up on the gates of various Andalusian towns. " Yes, this must be he--f=
air hair, blue eyes, large mouth, good teeth, small hands, fine shirt, a ve=
lvet jacket with silver buttons on it, white leather gaiters, and a bay hor=
se. Not a doubt about it. But his /incognito/ shall be respected!" We =
reached the /venta/. It was just what he had described to me. In other word=
s, the most wretched hole of its kind I had as yet beheld. One large apartm=
ent served as kitchen, dining-room, and sleeping chamber. A fire was burnin=
g on a flat stone in the middle of the room, and the smoke escaped through =
a hole in the roof, or rather hung in a cloud some feet above the soil. Alo=
ng the walls five or six mule rugs were spread on the floor. These were the=
travellers' beds. Twenty paces from the house, or rather from the solitary=
apartment which I have just described, stood a sort of shed, that served f=
or a stable. The only inhabitants of this delightful dwelling visible at th=
e moment, at all events, were an old woman, and a little girl of ten or twe=
lve years old, both of them as black as soot, and dressed in loathsome rags=
" Here' s the sole remnant of the ancient populations of Munda Boeti=
ca," said I to myself. " O Caesar! O Sextus Pompeius, if you were=
to revisit this earth how astounded you would be!" When the old woman=
saw my travelling companion an exclamation of surprise escaped her. "=
Ah! Senor Don Jose!" she cried. Don Jose frowned and lifted his hand =
with a gesture of authority that forthwith silenced the old dame. I turned =
to my guide and gave him to understand, by a sign that no one else perceive=
d, that I knew all about the man in whose company I was about to spend the =
night. Our supper was better than I expected. On a little table, only a foo=
t high, we were served with an old rooster, fricasseed with rice and numero=
us peppers, then more peppers in oil, and finally a /gaspacho/--a sort of s=
alad made of peppers. These three highly spiced dishes involved our frequen=
t recourse to a goatskin filled with Montella wine, which struck us as bein=
g delicious. After our meal was over, I caught sight of a mandolin hanging =
up against the wall--in Spain you see mandolins in every corner--and I aske=
d the little girl, who had been waiting on us, if she knew how to play it. =
" No," she replied. " But Don Jose does play well!" &qu=
ot; Do me the kindness to sing me something," I said to him, " I'=
m passionately fond of your national music." " I can' t refuse t=
o do anything for such a charming gentleman, who gives me such excellent ci=
gars," responded Don Jose gaily, and having made the child give him th=
e mandolin, he sang to his own accompaniment. His voice, though rough, was =
pleasing, the air he sang was strange and sad. As to the words, I could not=
understand a single one of them. " If I am not mistaken," said I=
, " that' s not a Spanish air you have just been singing. It' s like t=
he /zorzicos/ I' ve heard in the Provinces,* and the words must be in the B=
asque language." * The /privileged Provinces/, Alava, Biscay, Guipuzco=
a, and a part of Navarre, which all enjoy special /fueros/. The Basque lang=
uage is spoken in these countries. " Yes," said Don Jose, with a =
gloomy look. He laid the mandolin down on the ground, and began staring wit=
h a peculiarly sad expression at the dying fire. His face, at once fierce a=
nd noble-looking, reminded me, as the firelight fell on it, of Milton' s Sa=
tan. Like him, perchance, my comrade was musing over the home he had forfei=
ted, the exile he had earned, by some misdeed. I tried to revive the conver=
sation, but so absorbed was he in melancholy thought, that he gave me no an=
swer. The old woman had already gone to rest in a corner of the room, behin=
d a ragged rug hung on a rope. The little girl had followed her into this r=
etreat, sacred to the fair sex. Then my guide rose, and suggested that I sh=
ould go with him to the stable. But at the word Don Jose, waking, as it wer=
e, with a start, inquired sharply whither he was going. " To the stabl=
e," answered the guide. " What for? The horses have been fed! You=
can sleep here. The senor will give you leave." " I' m afraid th=
e senor' s horse is sick. I' d like the senor to see it. Perhaps he' d know=
what should be done for it." It was quite clear to me that Antonio wa=
nted to speak to me apart. But I did not care to rouse Don Jose' s suspicio=
ns, and being as we were, I thought far the wisest course for me was to app=
ear absolutely confident. I therefore told Antonio that I knew nothing on e=
arth about horses, and that I was desperately sleepy. Don Jose followed him=
to the stable, and soon returned alone. He told me there was nothing the m=
atter with the horse, but that my guide considered the animal such a treasu=
re that he was scrubbing it with his jacket to make it sweat, and expected =
to spend the night in that pleasing occupation. Meanwhile I had stretched m=
yself out on the mule rugs, having carefully wrapped myself up in my own cl=
oak, so as to avoid touching them. Don Jose, having begged me to excuse the=
liberty he took in placing himself so near me, lay down across the door, b=
ut not until he had primed his blunderbuss afresh and carefully laid it und=
er the wallet, which served him as a pillow. I had thought I was so tired t=
hat I should be able to sleep even in such a lodging. But within an hour a =
most unpleasant itching sensation roused me from my first nap. As soon as I=
realized its nature, I rose to my feet, feeling convinced I should do far =
better to spend the rest of the night in the open air than beneath that inh=
ospitable roof. Walking tiptoe I reached the door, stepped over Don Jose, w=
ho was sleeping the sleep of the just, and managed so well that I got outsi=
de the building without waking him. Just beside the door there was a wide w=
ooden bench. I lay down upon it, and settled myself, as best I could, for t=
he remainder of the night. I was just closing my eyes for a second time whe=
n I fancied I saw the shadow of a man and then the shadow of a horse moving=
absolutely noiselessly, one behind the other. I sat upright, and then I th=
ought I recognised Antonio. Surprised to see him outside the stable at such=
an hour, I got up and went toward him. He had seen me first, and had stopp=
ed to wait for me. " Where is he?" Antonio inquired in a low tone=
" In the /venta/. He' s asleep. The bugs don' t trouble him. But wha=
t are you going to do with that horse?" I then noticed that, to stifle=
all noise as he moved out of the shed, Antonio had carefully muffled the h=
orse' s feet in the rags of an old blanket. " Speak lower, for God' s =
sake," said Antonio. " You don' t know who that man is. He' s Jos=
e Navarro, the most noted bandit in Andalusia. I' ve been making signs to y=
ou all day long, and you wouldn' t understand." " What do I care =
whether he' s a brigand or not," I replied. " He hasn' t robbed u=
s, and I' ll wager he doesn' t want to." " That may be. But there=
are two hundred ducats on his head. Some lancers are stationed in a place =
I know, a league and a half from here, and before daybreak I' ll bring a fe=
w brawny fellows back with me. I' d have taken his horse away, but the brut=
e' s so savage that nobody but Navarro can go near it." " Devil t=
ake you!" I cried. " What harm has the poor fellow done you that =
you should want to inform against him? And besides, are you certain he is t=
he brigand you take him for?" " Perfectly certain! He came after =
me into the stable just now, and said, ' You seem to know me. If you tell t=
hat good gentleman who I am, I' ll blow your brains out!' You stay here, si=
r, keep close to him. You' ve nothing to fear. As long as he knows you are =
there, he won' t suspect anything." As we talked, we had moved so far =
from the /venta/ that the noise of the horse' s hoofs could not be heard th=
ere. In a twinkling Antonio snatched off the rags he had wrapped around the=
creature' s feet, and was just about to climb on its back. In vain did I a=
ttempt with prayers and threats to restrain him. " I' m only a poor ma=
n, senor," quoth he, " I can' t afford to lose two hundred ducats=
--especially when I shall earn them by ridding the country of such vermin. =
But mind what you' re about! If Navarro wakes up, he' ll snatch at his blun=
derbuss, and then look out for yourself! I' ve gone too far now to turn bac=
k. Do the best you can for yourself!" The villain was in his saddle al=
ready, he spurred his horse smartly, and I soon lost sight of them both in =
the darkness. I was very angry with my guide, and terribly alarmed as well.=
After a moment' s reflection, I made up my mind, and went back to the /ven=
ta/. Don Jose was still sound asleep, making up, no doubt, for the fatigue =
and sleeplessness of several days of adventure. I had to shake him roughly =
before I could wake him up. Never shall I forget his fierce look, and the s=
pring he made to get hold of his blunderbuss, which, as a precautionary mea=
sure, I had removed to some distance from his couch.</span></p> <p a=
lign=3D"left"><span id=3D"content">Explore Finance Degree Options</span></p=
> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p> <p> </p=
> <p> </p> </td>=20
</tr>=20
</tbody>=20
</table>=20
</center>=20
<hr width=3D"50%" />=20
<div style=3D"text-align: center; ">
<font size=3D"2">Change your options by visiting <a href=3D"=
http://www.hneku.com/pledge-mercantile/648U8V9p3c4.m*95ThvVdVKyxdhVtFMuKmji0hvV0ONW25c">here</a><br /> 2220 Meridian Blvd.,Suite #763, Minden, NV 89423</fo=
nt>
</div> =20
<img src=3D"http://www.hneku.com/blabbing-broadeners/9cc8Z5y3kc7J95_hvVdVKyxdhVtFMuKmji0hvV0ONWc6e" alt=3D""/></body>
</html>
