Book,  chapter

1    1,   22|       came toward evening to a miserable RANCHO, which could only
2    1,   22|        Indian of the Pampas. A miserable fire of grass was kindled,
3    2,    7|      37th parallel. He spent a miserable existence there— not that
4    2,   15| embarrassed if a little inn, a miserable public house, had not suddenly
5    2,   16|    cork-oak at harvest time. A miserable network of bare branches
6    2,   19|        a degree. But with this miserable cabin they were obliged
7    3,    4|       habitual track, and this miserable slave of routine was left
8    3,    5|      an attack by a handful of miserable beings.”~Paganel shook his
9    3,    5|      In this case there are no miserable beings to contend with.