d body in a black dress and black carpet-slippers--and she knelt
down to touch the padre's outstretched hand with her thin, withered
lips. The little children, who were waiting for their classes to be
called, all followed her example, and before long, the monotonous
drone of the recitations left no doubt that school had actually
begun. Benches had filled up, and the dusky feet were swinging under
them as the small backs bent over knotty problems on the slates.

The padre, passing among the pupils, made the necessary erasures and
corrections, and occasionally gave unasked to some recalcitrant a
smart snap on the head. The morning session ended by the pupils lining
up in a half circle around the battered figure of a saint--the altar
decorated with red paper flowers, or colored grasses in a number of
empty beer-bottles--and, while the padre played the wheezy harmonium,
singing their repertoire of sacred songs. Then, as the children
departed with the "_Buenos dias, senor_," visitors, who had been
waiting on the stairway with their presents of eggs, chickens, and
bananas, were received.

"Thees man," the padre explained to me, as a grotesque old fellow
humbled himself before us, "leeves in one house near from ze shore. He
has presented me with some goud rope to tie my horses with (_buen
piece, hombre_), and he says that there are no more fishes in ze sea."

"See, they have brought so many breads and fruits! They know well that
eet ees my fast-day, and that my custom ees to eat no meat. I can eat
fish or cheecken, but not fish _and_ cheecken; eet ees difficult here
to find enough food to sustain ze life on days of fast."

"Thees girl," he said, "loves me too much. She is my orphan, she and
her two brothers. I have bought one house for them near from ze church,
and, for the girl, one sewing-machine. Their mother had been stealed
[robbed] of everything, and she had died a month ago. Ze cheeldren
now have nobody but me."

She was a bright young girl, well-dressed and plump, although, when
Padre Pedro had received her, she was wasted by the fever, and near
starved to death. But this was only one of his many charities. He used
to loan out money to the people, knowing well that they would never be
able to return it. He had cured the sick, and had distributed quinine
among families that could not have secured it otherwise. He went to
visit his parishioners, although they had no means of entertaining
him. Most of them even had n