ne hand don Santiago was carrying
his book of prayers, in the other the train of his old but sumptuous
cope, to keep it out of the mud. The handsome robe was of a white
somewhat yellowed with age; and the heavy gold borders had tarnished
green, while the padding over the lining peeped through in places where
the outer cloth had been worn thin.

Children came up in droves to press their sniffling noses on the good
priest's hand, which at every step, almost, had to let the train fall
into the muck. Women greeted smilingly from the sidewalks. The dear old
_pae capella_! What a good-natured soul--never too harsh on penances,
but able to see through you, just the same, if you tried to fool him.
Don Santiago had the secret of adapting himself to the weaknesses of his
flock. Many a time he would stop in the street to extend his blessings
over the fish baskets of some woman of the market, or touch his fingers
miraculously to a pair of short scales to charm it against any danger
lest the inspectors of Valencia detect its fraudulent weights!

When the procession reached the shore, the bells began to ring, mingling
their garrulous ding-dong in the gentle crunching of the surf. Late
comers could be seen running along the sands to arrive in time for
everything. There, on a stretch of beach that was quite free of boats,
the _Mayflower_ rose from the middle of a swarming crowd, her bright
varnished sides gleaming white in the sunlight, her rakish mast,
gracefully tilted forward, standing out against the blue, its peak
adorned with the baptismal insignia of a new boat, sheaves of grass and
bunches of cloth flowers, that would hang up there till the storm winds
finally wrenched them loose.

The Rector and his party elbowed their way through the crowd pressing
around the boat. At the stern were the two sponsors--_sina_ Tona,
godmother, in a new shawl and skirt; and "Senor" Mariano, god-father, in
his tall hat and with his cane, in the very get-up that he wore at his
talks with the Governor in town! The whole family offered a spectacle of
gay and showy magnificence. Dolores had her pink dress on, and a new
kerchief of flaming colors; while her fingers gleamed with every ring
she owned. Tonet was strutting about on deck in his new suit, his
shining silk cap pulled down over one ear, twirling his mustache in
immense satisfaction that his conspicuous position enabled so many
pretty girls to sate their eyes on him. On the ground, with Roset