As the man had to live and he was not permitted to engage in manual labor, which would injure our prestige, he somehow or other obtained a position as collector of the tax on vehicles.

The poor devil had no education at all, a fact of which the natives soon became aware, as it was a marvel for them to see a Spaniard who didn't know how to read and write.

Every one ridiculed him and the payment of the tax was the occasion of broad smiles.

He knew that he was an object of ridicule and this tended to sour his disposition even more, rough and bad as it had formerly been.

They would purposely hand him the papers upside down to see his efforts to read them, and wherever he found a blank space he would scribble a lot of pothooks which rather fitly passed for his signature.