myself, he was. He had done just the thing which is so
often done in this world,--one of the unfairest and most provoking of
things; he had told the truth in such a way as to give a wrong
impression, which is not so very far different, in my opinion, from
telling a lie.

"A home for Indians up in the canon!" exclaimed Uncle George, drawing
Rea to him, and seating her on his knee. "Did my little tender-hearted
Rea want me to do that? It would take a very big house, girlie, for all
the poor Indians around here;" and Uncle George looked lovingly at Rea,
and kissed her hair, as she nestled her head into his neck. "Just like
her mother," he thought. "She would have turned every house into an
asylum if she could."

"Oh, not for all the Indians, Uncle George," said Rea, encouraged by his
kind smile,--"I am not such a fool as Jusy thinks,--only for those two
old ones that are going to be turned out of their home they've always
lived in. You know the ones I mean."

"Ah, yes,--old Ysidro and his wife. Well, Rea, I had already thought of
that myself. So you were not so much ahead of me."

"There!" exclaimed Rea triumphantly, turning to Jusy. "What do you say
now?"

Jusy did not know exactly what to say, he was so astonished; and as he
saw Jim and the cats coming up the road at that minute, he gladly took
the opportunity to spring down from the veranda and run to meet them.

[Illustration: decorative panel]*

IV.

The story of old Ysidro was indeed a sad one; and I think, with Rea,
that any one must be hard-hearted, who did not pity him. He was a very
old Indian; nobody knew how old; but he looked as if he must be a
hundred at least. Ever since he could remember, he had lived in a little
house in San Gabriel. The missionaries who first settled San Gabriel had
given a small piece of land to his father, and on it his father had
built this little house of rough bricks made of mud. Here Ysidro was
born, and here he had always lived. His father and mother had been dead
a long time. His brothers and sisters had all died or gone away to live
in some other place.

When he was a young man, he had married a girl named Carmena. She was
still living, almost as old as he; all their children had either died,
or married and gone away, and the two old people lived alone together in
the little mud house.

They were very poor; but they managed to earn just enough to keep from
starving. There was a little land around the house,-