"Before you could learn how to set type with any degree of rapidity, a
long time would pass. Besides, it is not right that a _caballero_ should
soil his hands with ink. The only thing that you can do here is to help
the proof-reader. Do you object?"
"I am ready to do whatever you order."
He spent that day, in fact, reading proofs. At night the proprietor told
him that he would give him three pesetas a day salary until he dismissed
the present proof-reader, who was a great drunkard. As he started to
leave, he thrust into his hand a ten-duro bill as advance pay.
"Thanks, Don Manuel," he said, deeply touched. "In you, who are a
workingman, I have found more generosity than in all the _caballeros_
whom I have been to see up to the present time."
For several days he worked as well as he could, conscientiously
fulfilling his task. It was hard and monotonous to the last degree; it
kept him busy from early in the morning till night. Moreover, the very
insignificant pay scarcely sufficed to buy potatoes; and although the
proprietor was anxious to send away the proof-reader and give him the
place, Miguel opposed it because he also was the father of a family, and
had no other means of livelihood.