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. A white umbrella in Mexico. steps were crowded with Indians,as was also the passageway within, wait-ing for an audience with the parish priest,whose apartments were above. Nothing can adequately describe thedilapidation of this entrance and its sur-roundings. The steps themselves hadbeen smeared over with mortar to holdthem together, the door jambs were lean-ing and ready to fall, the passageway it-self ended in a window which might oncehave held exquisite panels of stainedglass, but which was now open to the ele-ments save where it was choked up withadobe bricks laid loosely in
. A white umbrella in Mexico. steps were crowded with Indians,as was also the passageway within, wait-ing for an audience with the parish priest,whose apartments were above. Nothing can adequately describe thedilapidation of this entrance and its sur-roundings. The steps themselves hadbeen smeared over with mortar to holdthem together, the door jambs were lean-ing and ready to fall, the passageway it-self ended in a window which might oncehave held exquisite panels of stainedglass, but which was now open to the ele-ments save where it was choked up withadobe bricks laid loosely in courses. Therooms opening into it were tenantless,and infested with lizards and bats, andthe whole place inside and out was fastsuccumbing to a decay which seemed tohave reached its limit, and which mustsoon end in hopeless ruin. We found the padre seated at a rude 200 A White Umbrella in Mexico table in the darkest corner of a low-ceiledroom on the left of the corridor, surrounded . -—..-, by half a dozen In-dian women. He. was at dinner, andthe women wereserving him fromcoarse earthendishes. When heturned at our intru-sion, we saw a short,thickset man, wear-ing a greasy blackfrock, a beard aweek old, and a^ smile so treacher- ous that I involun-tarily tapped my inside pocket to makesure of its contents. He arose lazily,gathered upon his coat cuff the few straycrumbs clinging to his lips, and with asearching, cunning air, asked our busi-ness. Moon shifted his spy-glass until thelarge end was well balanced in his hand,and replied obsequiously, To see thefamous picture, holy father. This, my T^int^unt^an and the Titian 201 companion, is a distinguished painter fromthe far East. He has heard of the gloryof this great work of the master, of whichyou are the sacred custodian, and hascome these many thousand miles to see hope your reverence will not turn usaway. I saw instantly from his face that hehad anticipated this, and that his temperwas not improved by Moons request. Il
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookpublisherbostonhoughtonmiff