An old woman all
rags and tatters came in and squeezed up alongside, where she crouched,
spinning a long wool thread and staring up into Jo's face. Several cats
were lounging about the room, but one came close and began to squirm as
though she were "setting" a mouse. Suddenly she pounced, seized the old
woman's food bag from her feet, swept it on to the floor, and
disappeared with it beneath the dais, where all the rest of the cats
followed. The old woman, who had been plying distaff and spindle the
while, let out a yell of fury and half disappeared beneath the platform.
We all roared with laughter, while beneath us the cats spat and the old
woman cursed, beating about with the handle of her distaff till she had
rescued her dinner. She backed out with the bag, sat down again and
started spinning once more as though nothing had happened.
Beyond this cafe the track became very stony and rough. We passed a
typical couple. The man was carrying a light bag full of bottles, while
the women had on her back a huge wooden chest, in which things rattled
and bumped as she stumped along.
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