nds by her sainted mother--my daughter, sir--who
perished young. Now, her birthplace, where she was taught letters and
the Catechism by the priest, was in an unhealthy situation. It was
hot and wet--always wet--a place suited to frogs rather than to human
beings. At length, thinking that it would suit the child better--for she
was pale and weakly--to live in a drier atmosphere among mountains, I
brought her to this district. For this, senor, and for all I have done
for her, I look for no reward here, but to that place where my daughter
has got her foot; not, sir, on the threshold, as you might think, but
well inside. For, after all, it is to the authorities above, in spite of
some blots which we see in their administration, that we must look for
justice. Frankly, sir, this is the whole story of my granddaughter's
origin."

"Ah, yes," I returned, "your story explains why she can call a wild bird
to her hand, and touch a venomous serpent with her bare foot and receive
no harm."

"Doubtless you are right," said the old dissembler. "Living alone in the
wood, she had only God's creatures to play and make friends with; and
wild animals, I have heard it said, know those who are friendly towards
them."

"You treat her friends badly," said I, kicking the long tail of the
coatimundi away with my foot, and regretting that I had joined in his
repast.

"Senor, you must consider that we are only what Heaven made us. When all
this was formed," he continued, opening his arms wide to indicate the
entire creation, "the Person who concerned Himself with this matter gave
seeds and fruitless and nectar of flowers for the sustentation of His
small birds. But we have not their delicate appetites. The more robust
stomach which he gave to man cries out for meat. Do you understand? But
of all this, friend, not one word to Rima!"

I laughed scornfully. "Do you think me such a child, old man, as to
believe that Rima, that little sprite, does not know that you are an
eater of flesh? Rima, who is everywhere in the wood, seeing all things,
even if I lift my hand against a serpent, she herself unseen."

"But, sir, if you will pardon my presumption, you are saying too much.
She does not come here, and therefore cannot see that I eat meat. In all
that wood where she flourishes and sings, where she is in her house and
garden, and mistress of the creatures, even of the small butterfly with
painted wings, there, sir, I hunt no animal. Nor will my do