himself--Antonio. But all the mission buildings were finished in a few
years, and they, have never been changed except by falling into ruins.
I have not been to San Luis Rey for a long, long time, for I cannot bear
to go there and see the poor old buildings tumbling to the ground--at
least that is what they were doing until Padre O'Keefe came from Santa
Barbara to live there and take charge of the mission. I am glad it is
in his care; but he cannot bring back the old days, for the Indians are
nearly all gone now.

"But the Senor wishes to hear about the padre. I think Padre Peyri was
nearly fifty years old when I was born, and he had been at the mission
all the time since he started it, about fifteen years before. How he
did love his mission, and how proud he was of it! And he was right to
be proud, for it was the finest mission in the country, and the largest
also. Every one who came there praised the padre for the wonders he had
done; and that made him very happy. After his day's work was over,
he liked to walk about in the neighborhood, looking at, and seeing,
everything--the ground, the trees and the sky, listening to the singing
of the birds, and watching the sun sink out of sight in the west; but
above all else, gazing at the mission, at the beautiful big church, and
the building and arches around the patio. Sometimes when I came to him
at his bidding, I would see him smiling to himself, as though he was
happy to have been able to raise up such a good work to his Lord.

"But alas! Senor, those happy times could not last always. I do not
understand very well the trouble that was between the missions and the
Governor--it has always been too much for my poor head--but I suppose
the Senor knows all about it. The Governor wished the Indians to be
taken away from the missions, and live in pueblos of their own; but the
Indians did not like it, nor the padres either; and it made trouble for
many years. I was too young to think much about it, but I used to hear
the Indians talking among themselves of what they heard from time to
time. I asked my father why the Governor could take the Indians away
from the missions. He told me it was the wish of Mexico that we should
not live in the missions any longer, but have our own land, and work for
money. 'But must we leave our padre here, and not see him any more?' I
asked my father.

"'We may have to go away from here,' he answered, 'but the padre would
be our padre still, and