He was bareheaded and barefooted, and was never otherwise while his week with us lasted; his clothing was European, cheap, flimsy, and showed much wear.
He stood before me and inclined his head (and body) in the pathetic Indian way, touching his forehead with the finger--ends of his right hand, in salute.

I said: "Manuel, you are evidently Indian, but you seem to have a Spanish name when you put it all together.

How is that ?" A perplexed look gathered in his face; it was plain that he had not understood--but he didn't let on.

He spoke back placidly.
"Name, Manuel.

Yes, master." "I know; but how did you get the name ?" "Oh, yes, I suppose.