en enjoyment. From another door issued two
fishermen, who, seeing the priest, approached and asked his blessing
on their day's work. Some moments later he heard a loud tattoo, and
soon the Alcalde of the village appeared, marching pompously through
the streets, preceded by his tall, black secretary, who was beating
lustily upon a small drum. At each street intersection the little
procession halted, while the Alcalde with great impressiveness
sonorously read a proclamation just received from the central
Government at Bogota to the effect that thereafter no cattle might be
killed in the country without the payment of a tax as therein set
forth. Groups of _peones_ gathered slowly about the few little stores
in the main street, or entered and inspected for the thousandth time
the shabby stocks. Matrons with black, shining faces cheerily greeted
one another from their doorways. Everywhere prevailed a gentle decorum
of speech and manners. For, however lowly the station, however pinched
the environment, the dwellers in this ancient town were ever gentle,
courteous and dignified. Their conversation dealt with the simple
affairs of their quiet life. They knew nothing of the complex
problems, social, economic, or religious, which harassed their
brethren of the North. No dubious aspirations or ambitions stirred
their breasts. Nothing of the frenzied greed and lust of material
accumulation touched their child-like minds. They dwelt upon a plane
far, far removed, in whatever direction, from the mental state of
their educated and civilized brothers of the great States, who from
time to time undertake to advise them how to live, while ruthlessly
exploiting them for material gain. And thus they have been exploited
ever since the heavy hand of the Spaniard was laid upon them, four
centuries ago. Thus they will continue to be, until that distant day
when mankind shall have learned to find their own in another's good.

As his eyes swept his environment, the untutored folk, the old church,
the dismally decrepit mud houses, with an air of desolation and utter
abandon brooding over all; and as he reflected that his own complex
nature, rather than any special malice of fortune, had brought this to
him, Jose's heart began to sink under the sting of a condemning
conscience. He turned back into his house. Its pitiful emptiness smote
him sore. No books, no pictures, no furnishings, nothing that
ministers to the comfort of a civilized and educated