It was an exceedingly interesting heap of information, for the captain had given him both English and American journals, which were a rare treat at that time in the interior of the beleaguered Mexican republic. Senora Tassara was busy with these, when Ned and all the other news-bringers were pounced upon by a yet more eager inquirer. "Senor Carfora!" exclaimed Felicia, her black eyes flashing curiously at him. "Where did you get them? I never before saw such big newspapers. They won't tell us about our army, though." "Yes, they will," he said, and, while she was searching the broad-faced prints for army information, he repeated for her benefit all that he had previously told her mother. Poor Senorita Felicia! She did not obtain at all what she wanted, for there were no accounts of brilliant Mexican victories. All of these must have been meanly omitted by the editors, and at last she angrily threw down a newspaper to say to him: "Senor Carfora, I am glad you are to stay here, but you will never be anything better than a gringo, no matter how much you learn. I was up in the library this morning, and I pulled out six more books for you. You may read them all, if they will do you any good. One of them is about Spain, too. What I want to do is to travel all over Spain. It must be the most beautiful country in the world." Ned had noticed long ago that her eyes always grew dreamy whenever her thoughts were turned toward the peninsula which has had so wonderful a history, but he did not know that his own longings for foreign travel were very like her own in their origin when he replied: "Well, I'd like to see Spain. I mean to some day, but I want to see England first, and Scotland and Ireland. One of my ancestors was an Irishman, and the Crawfords were from Scotland. It isn't as hot a country as Spain is. You are a Mexican, not a Spaniard." "So I am," she said, "and most of the Mexicans are Indians. We ought to have more Spaniards, but we can't get them. Anyhow, we don't want too many gringos to come in. They are all heretics, too." Ned knew what she meant, and he hastened to tell her that his country contained more church people of her religion than Mexico did, and he added, to her great disgust: "And our priests are a hundred times better than yours are. General Zuroaga says so, and so does your father. I don't like your Mexican priests. The general says he wishes they were all dead, and their places filled by good, live men from Europe and the United States." "Felicia," interrupted her mother, "you must not talk with Senor Carfora about such things. What I wish is that we had the American common schools all over our poor, ignorant country. Oh, dear! What if this horrible war should prove to be really a blessing to us? As things look now, we are to have another revolution within a year. More men will be shot, just as they have been before, and nobody can see what the end is to be."