A COCHERO'S CHRISTMAS EVE Basilio reached San Diego just as the Christmas Eve procession was passing through the streets.

He had been delayed on the road for several hours because the cochero, having forgotten his cedula, was held up by the Civil Guard, had his memory jogged by a few blows from a rifle-butt, and afterwards was taken before the commandant.

Now the carromata was again detained to let the procession pass, while the abused cochero took off his hat reverently and recited a paternoster to the first image that came along, which seemed to be that of a great saint.

It was the figure of an old man with an exceptionally long beard, seated at the edge of a grave under a tree filled with all kinds of stuffed birds.

A _kalan_ with a clay jar, a mortar, and a _kalikut_ for mashing buyo were his only utensils, as if to indicate that he lived on the border of the tomb and was doing his cooking there.