"Ah, poor me!" replied the teacher, shaking his head, "a poor teacher cannot alone fight against prejudices, against existing influences. Above all, I would need to have a school house, so that I would not, as I do now, have to teach from the priest's carriage, under the convent. There, when the children want to read aloud, they naturally disturb the Father, who at times comes down and very nervous, especially when he has his attacks, finds fault with the children and insults me. You know very well that under such conditions no one can do any teaching. The child does not respect the teacher from that moment when he sees him mistreated by some one else without maintaining his rights. The teacher, if he is to be listened to, or if his authority is not to be doubted, needs prestige, a good name, moral strength, and a certain amount of freedom. If you will allow me, I will give you an illustration. I wished to introduce some reforms and they laughed at me. In order to remedy the evil that I spoke of a moment ago, I tried to teach the children Spanish, because, not only does the Government order it, but because it will be a great advantage for them to know the language. I employed the simplest method, used simple phrases and nouns without making use of hard rules, with the expectation of teaching them the grammar as soon as they had learned the language. At the end of several weeks, almost all the smarter ones in the school understood me and were able to compose phrases in Castellano." The teacher stopped and seemed to be in doubt. Then, as if he had made up his mind, he began again. "I ought not to be ashamed of the history of my grievances. If any one had been in my place, he would have had the same story to tell. As I was saying, I began well. Several days later the priest, who was then Father Dámaso, sent the sacristan mayor to tell me that he wanted to see me. As I knew his character and was afraid to make him wait for me, I went up immediately, saluted him and said good morning to him in Spanish. As was customary, when I saluted him, I advanced to kiss the hand which he held out, but just at that moment he withdrew it and, without replying to me, began to chuckle scoffingly. I was naturally disconcerted, and it was all done in the presence of the sacristan mayor. At the moment, I did not know what to say. I stood and looked at him while he went on laughing. I had already become impatient and saw that I was on the point of committing an indiscretion. All of a sudden, he stopped laughing and added insult to injury. With a cunning air, he said to me: 'So it is buenos dias, eh? buenos dias, ha, ha! How funny! Why, you know how to speak Spanish, do you?' And then he continued his laugh." Ibarra could not keep back his smile.