oked until the Last
Judgment."

The grandmother rolled the spinning-wheel to the corner, and called the
little infants to her.

"We will not go," they replied with one voice, "if you will not tell us
a story."

"Come, I will tell you one," said the good old woman. The children
approached. Anis took up his position on the empty earthen pot, and the
grandma commenced a story to amuse the little children.

She had hardly finished the relation of this story when a great noise
was heard. The dog rose up, pointed his ears, and put himself on the
defensive. The cat bristled her hair and prepared to fly. But the
succeeding laugh very soon was frightful: it was Anis, who fell asleep
during the recital of his grandmother. It happened that the prophecy of
his mother was fulfilled as to his falling into the earthen pan, where
all his little person disappeared except his legs, which stuck out like
plants of a new species. His mother, rendered impatient, seized with one
hand the collar of his vest, raised him out of this depth, and despite
his resistance held him suspended in the air for some time--in the style
represented in those card dancing-jacks, which move arms and legs when
you pull the thread which holds them.

As his mother scolded him, and everybody laughed at him, Anis, who had a
brave spirit,--a thing natural in an infant,--burst out into a groan
which had nothing of timidity in it.

"Don't weep, Anis," said Paca, "and I will give you two chestnuts that I
have in my pocket."

"True?" demanded Anis.

Paca took out the two chestnuts, and gave them to him. Instead of tears,
they saw promptly shine with joy the two rows of white teeth of the
young boy.

"Brother Gabriel," said Maria, "did you not speak to me of a pain in
your eyes? Why do you work this evening?"

"I said truly," answered brother Gabriel; "but Don Frederico gave me a
remedy which cured me."

"Don Frederico must know many remedies, but he does not know that one
which never misses its effect," said the shepherd.

"If you know it, have the kindness to tell me," replied Stein.

"I am unable to tell you," replied the shepherd. "I know that it exists,
and that is all."

"Who knows it then?" demanded Stein.

"The swallows," said Jose.

"The swallows?"

"Yes, sir. It is an herb which is called 'pito-real,' which nobody sees
or knows except the swallows: when their little ones lose their sight
the parents rub their eyes with the pito-real, and c