The man worked on without lifting his head, as the patrón drew near.
“It is the bird?” said Ramón, standing watching the piece of metal, now cold upon the anvil.
“Yes, Patrón! It is the bird. Is it right?” And the man looked up with black, bright, waiting eyes.
The smith lifted with the tongs the black, flat, tongue-shaped piece of metal, and Ramón looked at it a long time.
“I put the wings on after,” said the smith.
Ramón traced with his dark, sensitive hand an imaginary line, outside the edge of the iron. Three times he did it. And the movement fascinated the smith.
“A little more slender—so!” said Ramón.
“Yes, Patrón! Yes! Yes! I understand,” said the man eagerly.
“And the rest?”
“Here it is!” The man pointed to two