I'm
talking of others who are dragging out miserable lives! It's not
right that after so much persuasion to come and so many hardships in
crossing the sea they should end here by dying of hunger. What you say
about the soldiers may be true, but the fact is that I've been in the
country more than three years, and I haven't seen any soldier limping."

"In that I agree with the lady," said her neighbor. "Why issue them
shoes when they were born without them?"

"And why shirts?"

"And why trousers?"

"Just calculate what we should economize on soldiers clothed only in
their skins!" concluded he who was defending the army.

In another group the conversation was more heated. Ben-Zayb was
talking and declaiming, while Padre Camorra, as usual, was constantly
interrupting him. The friar-journalist, in spite of his respect for
the cowled gentry, was always at loggerheads with Padre Camorra,
whom he regarded as a silly half-friar, thus giving himself the
appearance of being independent and refuting the accusations of those
who called him Fray Ibanez. Padre Camorra liked his adversary, as the
latter was the only person who would take seriously what he styled
his arguments. They were discussing magnetism, spiritualism, magic,
and the like. Their words flew through the air like the knives and
balls of jugglers, tossed back and forth from one to the other.

That year great attention had been attracted in the Quiapo fair
by a head, wrongly called a sphinx, exhibited by Mr. Leeds, an
American. Glaring advertisements covered the walls of the houses,
mysterious and funereal, to excite the curiosity of the public. Neither
Ben-Zayb nor any of the padres had yet seen it; Juanito Pelaez was the
only one who had, and he was describing his wonderment to the party.

Ben-Zayb, as a journalist, looked for a natural explanation. Padre
Camorra talked of the devil, Padre Irene smiled, Padre Salvi remained
grave.

"But, Padre, the devil doesn't need to come--we are sufficient to
damn ourselves--"

"It can't be explained any other way."

"If science--"

"Get out with science, _punales_!"

"But, listen to me and I'll convince you. It's all a question of
optics. I haven't yet seen the head nor do I know how it looks, but
this gentleman"--indicating Juanito Pelaez--"tells us that it does not
look like the talking heads that are usually exhibited. So be it! But
the principle is the same--it's all a question of optics. Wait! A
mirror is pl