than her own.

"I don't want to be a sacristan any longer."

"What?"

"Listen, mother, to what I've been thinking about. Today there arrived
from Spain the son of the dead Don Rafael, and he will be a good
man like his father. Well now, mother, tomorrow you will get Crispin,
collect my wages, and say that I will not be a sacristan any longer. As
soon as I get well I'll go to see Don Crisostomo and ask him to hire me
as a herdsman of his cattle and carabaos--I'm now big enough. Crispin
can study with old Tasio, who does not whip and who is a good man,
even if the curate does not believe so. What have we to fear now from
the padre? Can he make us any poorer than we are? You may believe it,
mother, the old man is good. I've seen him often in the church when
no one else was about, kneeling and praying, believe it. So, mother,
I'll stop being a sacristan. I earn but little and that little is taken
away from me in fines. Every one complains of the same thing. I'll
be a herdsman and by performing my tasks carefully I'll make my
employer like me. Perhaps he'll let us milk a cow so that we can drink
milk--Crispin likes milk so much. Who can tell! Maybe they'll give us
a little calf if they see that I behave well and we'll take care of
it and fatten it like our hen. I'll pick fruits in the woods and sell
them in the town along with the vegetables from our garden, so we'll
have money. I'll set snares and traps to catch birds and wild cats,
[61] I'll fish in the river, and when I'm bigger, I'll hunt. I'll be
able also to cut firewood to sell or to present to the owner of the
cows, and so he'll be satisfied with us. When I'm able to plow, I'll
ask him to let me have a piece of land to plant in sugar-cane or corn
and you won't have to sew until midnight. We'll have new clothes for
every fiesta, we'll eat meat and big fish, we'll live free, seeing each
other every day and eating together. Old Tasio says that Crispin has a
good head and so we'll send him to Manila to study. I'll support him
by working hard. Isn't that fine, mother? Perhaps he'll be a doctor,
what do you say?"

"What can I say but yes?" said Sisa as she embraced her son. She noted,
however, that in their future the boy took no account of his father,
and shed silent tears.

Basilio went on talking of his plans with the confidence of the
years that see only what they wish for. To everything Sisa said
yes--everything appeared good.

Sleep again began to weigh down