San Juan Capistrano

The Penance of Magdalena



Slowly, very slowly, the greatest and most beautiful of the Missions of
Alta California had risen among the swelling lomas of the valley of the
San Juan. Brick by brick and stone by stone the simple Indian laborers,
under the tutelage of the Fathers, had reared a structure which, in its
way and place, might not unfitly be compared with those great cathedrals
of Europe in which we see, as in a parable, how inward love and faith
work out in material beauty. Huge timbers of pine and sycamore, hewn on
Palomar, the Mountain of Doves, many miles away, had been hauled by oxen
over trackless hill and valley, to form the joists and rafters that one
sees to-day, after the lapse of more than a century, firm and
serviceable, fastened with wooden spikes and stout rawhide lashings.

In all these labors Te--filo had taken a principal part. As a child he
had been christened with the name of Lucas, and had carried it through
boyhood. But when about fourteen years of age, he had been transferred
from the duties of a herder to learn the simple crafts taught in the
workshops; and his industry and intelligence had so commended him to the
overseers and Padre Josef that one day the latter, praising him for some
task especially well performed, had said, half in jest, "Hijo mio, we
must christen you over again. You are excelent'simo, as San Lucas said
of San Te--filo in the superscription to his holy evangel; so I shall
call you Te--filo, excelent'simo Te--filo, instead of Lucas; why not?" And
Te--filo the boy became from that day, though Lucas he remained in the