nuine Mystery play,
the Virgin Mary being represented by a girl in soiled white stockings
and a confirmation dress. The Christ Child was a Spanish doll in a
glass case. There were the three wise men--one in a long beard and a
pink mask, and the others in gold braid and knickerbockers--more like
dandies than philosophers. "Joseph" was splendid, with a shepherd's
crook and a sombrero. Adoration before the manger was the theme that
was developed in a series of ballets danced by the children to a
tambourine and castanet accompaniment. At the conclusion of the play,
the little actors in their starry costumes, Joseph and the Virgin
(carrying the Babe), the three philosophers, and the musicians and
the army of admiring followers, filed out into the moonlight, and
as the sweet music of the "Shepherds' Song" diminished gradually,
they disappeared within a shadowy grove of palms.

A Christmas Feast.

When Senor Pedro gave his Christmas feast, he went about it in
the orthodox way. That is, he began at midnight Christmas eve. The
Christmas pig we were to have had, however, disappointed us--and
thereby hangs a tale.

Came Senor Pedro early in the morning of the twenty-fourth, and "In
the mountains," Senor Pedro said, "runs a fat pig." _Usa ca babui
uga dacu!_ A regular feast of a pig running at large near the macao
woods on the slope beyond Mercario's hemp-fields!

Nothing would do but that I buckle on my Colt's--a weapon that I
had done much destruction with among the lesser anthropoids in the
vicinity. Then we set out radiantly for the hills, with Senor Pedro
leading and a municipal policeman with us to take home the pig. We soon
arrived at the pig's stamping grounds. We had not long to wait. There
was a snapping of the underbrush, and "Mr. Babui" appeared upon the
scene. His great plank side and sagging belly was as fair a mark as
any sportsman could have wished. His greedy little eyes were fixed
upon the ground where he was rooting for his Christmas dinner.

Bang! The bullet from the army Colt's sped true. Our pig, flat on
his back, was squealing desperately, and his feet were pawing the air
as last as though he had been run by clockwork and had been suddenly
released from contact with the ground. Then the municipal policeman
went to pick him up. But lo, a miracle! Our Christmas pig, inspired by
supersusine terror on the approach of the dire representative of law,
regained his legs, and before we could recover from