ecame one of the townsfolk.

As the Magdalene set out the women joined the procession, only that
instead of beginning with the children, as among the men, the old women
came first and the girls filled up the lines to the car of the Virgin,
behind which came the curate under his canopy. This practise they had
from Padre Damaso, who said: "To the Virgin the maidens and not the old
women are pleasing!" This statement had caused wry faces on the part
of many saintly old ladies, but the Virgin did not change her tastes.

San Diego followed the Magdalene but did not seem to be rejoicing
over this fact, since he moved along as repentantly as he had in
the morning when he followed St. Francis. His float was drawn by six
Tertiary Sisters--whether because of some vow or on account of some
sickness, the fact is that they dragged him along, and with zeal. San
Diego stopped in front of the platform and waited to be saluted.

But it was necessary to wait for the float of the Virgin, which was
preceded by persons dressed like phantoms, who frightened the little
children so that there were heard the cries and screams of terrified
babies. Yet in the midst of that dark mass of gowns, hoods, girdles,
and nuns' veils, from which arose a monotonous and snuffling prayer,
there were to be seen, like white jasmines or fresh sampaguitas among
old rags, twelve girls dressed in white, crowned with flowers, their
hair curled, and flashing from their eyes glances as bright as their
necklaces. Like little genii of light who were prisoners of specters
they moved along holding to the wide blue ribbons tied to the Virgin's
car and suggesting the doves that draw the car of Spring.

Now all the images were in attitudes of attention, crowded one against
the other to listen to the verses. Everybody kept his eyes fixed on
the half-drawn curtain until at length a sigh of admiration escaped
from the lips of all. Deservedly so, too, for it was a boy with wings,
riding-boots, sash, belt, and plumed hat.

"It's the alcalde!" cried some one, but this prodigy of creation began
to recite a poem like himself and took no offense at the comparison.

But why record here what he said in Latin, Tagalog, and Spanish, all
in verse--this poor victim of the gobernadorcillo? Our readers have
enjoyed Padre Damaso's sermon of the morning and we do not wish to
spoil them by too many wonders. Besides, the Franciscan might feel
hard toward us if we were to put forward a compe