world to make the time pass as long as I live."

I did not continue the argument, knowing the placid superiority of
inexperience.

"But thou hast not yet told me which thou wouldst give up."

"The books, of course. I hope I know my duty. I would sacrifice all
things to my religion. But the priests do not interfere now as they
did in the last generation."

I was very religious in those days, and my heart beat with approval.
"I have always said that the Church may let women read what they
choose. The good principles they are born with they will adhere to."

"We are by nature conservatives, that is all. And we have need of
religion. We must have something to lean on, and men are poor props,
as far as I have observed. Sometimes after having read a long while in
an absorbing book, particularly one that seemed to put something with
a living hand into my brain and make it feel larger, I find that I am
miles away from the Church; I have forgotten its existence. I always
_run_ back."

"_Dios!_ I should think so. Yes, it is well we do need our religion.
Men do not; for that reason they drop it the moment the wings on their
minds grow fast--as they would, when the warm sun came out, drop the
thick blanket of the Indian, borrowed and gratefully worn in dark
uncertain weather. I do not dare ask Diego Estenega what he believes,
lest he tell me he believes nothing and I should have to hear it. How
dost thou like my friend, Chonita?"