"Have a care, child, that this is not luxuriousness of the senses.

I have noticed of late you gather overmuch of roses and syringa, excellent in their way and in moderation, but still not to be compared with the flower of Holy Church, the lily." "But lilies don't look well on the refectory table, and against the adobe wall," returned the acolyte, with a pout of a spoilt child; "and surely the flowers cannot help being sweet, any more than myrrh or incense.

And I am not frightened of the heathen Americanos either NOW.
There was a small one in the garden yesterday, a boy like me, and he spoke kindly and with a pleasant face." "What said he to thee, child ?" asked Father Pedro, anxiously.
"Nay, the matter of his speech I could not understand," laughed the boy, "but the manner was as gentle as thine, holy father." "'St, child," said the Padre impatiently.

"Thy likings are as unreasonable as thy fears.

Besides, have I not told thee it ill becomes a child of Christ to chatter with those sons of Belial?
But canst thou not repeat the words--the WORDS he said ?" he continued suspiciously.
"'Tis a harsh tongue the Americanos speak in their throat," replied the boy.