e dinner on
that, ladies and gentlemen! And we'll have a real toast afterward ... to
_Flor de mayo_!

The frying-pan was lifted from the stove and carried into the house, and
the whole family rose to follow--significant happenings that did not
escape the watchful eyes of little Pascualet. He deserted his orpheon of
tiny choristers. The monotone of _la lluna la pruna_ came to an end, and
peace settled over the moon-lit country-side.

It was not long before the whole Cabanal, with that gift for rapid
perception of important things that little places have, was aware that
the Rector's new boat was to be christened _Flor de mayo_. And when,
the evening before the blessing of the vessel, she was dragged down to
the water's edge in front of the _casa del bous_, the beautiful
mysterious name could be read on the inside of her stern sheets, painted
in letters of fetching blue.

The next afternoon, the cabin section of the Cabanal was in festive
mood. Occasions like that were few indeed! Standing god-father in the
baptismal rites was "_Senor_ Mariano _el Callao_," no less a stingy old
fat-purse, granted, but with enough heart in him to shell out a penny or
two for a nephew like that on a day like that. Sweets a-plenty were to
be passed around on the shore, with barrels of drinks. Barrels! Besides,
that Rector boy knew how to do things well. He took the crew he had
engaged for the first trip and went off to the church to escort don
Santiago, the curate, to the beach. The priest welcomed him with one of
those smiles he kept for his very best parishioners only. "What! Ready
so soon? Well, son, won't you just run around and tell the sacristan to
get the water and the hyssop ready! I'll just get into my cassock, and
be with you in a jiffy...." "Not quite so fast, don Santiago!" observed
the Rector. "Not quite so fast! You ought to see this is not an occasion
for any cassock business, or stuff like that. Your cope, father, your
cope, and the best you've got, see? You don't launch a boat like this
every other day. Never mind about the money! I'll pay what's right!"
The good priest smiled. "Very well ... the cope isn't just the thing,
but cope it is, if you say so.... We're ready to accommodate good
members of our flock, who know how to appreciate favors."

And they started back from the rectory, the sacristan in front with the
hyssop and the holy vessel; then the curate surrounded by his guard of
honor, the captain and his men. In o