“Ye see,” said Mr. Hoover, dropping upon a low bench, “the way the thing pans out is this. Almiry's brother is a pow'ful preacher down the coast at San Antonio and hez settled down thar with a big Free Will Baptist Church congregation and a heap o' land got from them Mexicans. Thar's a lot o' poor Spanish and Injin trash that belong to the land, and Almiry's brother hez set about convertin' 'em, givin' 'em convickshion and religion, though the most of 'em is Papists and followers of the Scarlet Woman. Thar was an orphan, a little girl that he got outer the hands o' them priests, kinder snatched as a brand from the burnin', and he sent her to us to be brought up in the ways o' the Lord, knowin' that we had no children of our own. But we thought she oughter get the benefit o' schoolin' too, besides our own care, and we reckoned to bring her here reg'lar to school.” Relieved and pleased to help the good-natured couple in the care of the homeless waif, albeit somewhat doubtful of their religious methods, the schoolmaster said he would be delighted to number her among his little flock. Had she already received any tuition? “Only from them padres, ye know, things about saints, Virgin Marys, visions, and miracles,” put in Mrs. Hoover; “and we kinder thought ez you know Spanish you might be able to get rid o' them in exchange for 'conviction o' sins' and 'justification by faith,' ye know.” “I'm afraid,” said Mr. Brooks, smiling at the thought of displacing the Church's “mysteries” for certain corybantic displays and thaumaturgical exhibitions he had witnessed at the Dissenters' camp meeting, “that I must leave all that to you, and I must caution you to be careful what you do lest you also shake her faith in the alphabet and the multiplication table.” “Mebbee you're right,” said Mrs. Hoover, mystified but good-natured; “but thar's one thing more we oughter tell ye. She's--she's a trifle dark complected.” The schoolmaster smiled. “Well?” he said patiently. “She isn't a nigger nor an Injin, ye know, but she's kinder a half-Spanish, half-Mexican Injin, what they call 'mes--mes'”-- “Mestiza,” suggested Mr. Brooks; “a half-breed or mongrel.” “I reckon. Now thar wouldn't be any objection to that, eh?” said Mr. Hoover a little uneasily. “Not by me,” returned the schoolmaster cheerfully. “And although this school is state-aided it's not a 'public school' in the eye of the law, so you have only the foolish prejudices of your neighbors to deal with.” He had recognized the reason of their hesitation and knew the strong racial antagonism held towards the negro and Indian by Mr. Hoover's Southwestern compatriots, and he could not refrain from “rubbing it in.” “They kin see,” interposed Mrs. Hoover, “that she's not a nigger, for her hair don't 'kink,' and a furrin Injin, of course, is different from one o' our own.”