o chairs for him to sit on when he came,
and they would stand around in such embarrassed silence that the
padre could not have derived much pleasure from their company.

At the padre's "_aver, bata!_" after the last visitor has gone, the
house-boys run in with the noon meal. The padre had a good cook, who
understood the art of fixing the provisions in the Spanish style. I was
surprised at the resources of the parish; for a meal of ten or fifteen
courses was the usual thing. A phalanx of barefooted waiters stood in
line to take the plates when we had finished the respective courses,
broth, mutton stew, and chicken, and bananas for dessert. The padre,
I am sorry to say, ate with his knife, and was inclined to gobble. Two
yellow dogs and a lean cat stood by to gulp the morsels that were
thrown them from the table. When the dinner was completed, a large
tumbler of water and a toothpick were brought on. After a smoke the
padre took his customary nap, retiring to the low, cane-bottomed bed,
where he intrenched himself behind mosquito-bars.

The convent was a rambling building, with adobe walls. It was raised
up on pillars as long as telegraph poles, and the ground floor was
divided into various apartments. There was the "_calaboos_," where
Padre Pedro's chickens were encouraged to "put" eggs. There were
the stables for the padre's ponies, and a large bamboo stockade
for pigs and chickens. The little friar took a lively interest in
this corral, and he would feed his stock with his own hand from the
convent window. "Ze leetle goat," he said, "eet ees my mind to send
to Father Cipriano for a geeft." The sucking pig was being saved for
Easter-time, when it should be well roasted on a spit, with a banana
in its mouth. There were just sixty-seven chickens, and the padre
used to count them every day and notice their peculiarities.

During the afternoon the padre's time was taken up by various
religious duties, and the school was left in charge of the old
_maestra_. There would be a funeral service at the church, or a
baptism, or confession. Some days he would be called away to other
_barrios_ to hear a last confession; but the distance or the weather
never daunted him, and he would tuck his gown well up, and, followed by
a sacristan, ride merrily away. On his return a cup of pasty chocolate
would await him. Padre Pedro used to make a certain egg-fizz which
was a refreshing drink of a long afternoon. The eggs were lashed
into a fr