pear-tree, dear Meliboeus, trim the vines.' And how are we now, Senor
Don Jose?"

The engineer and the canon shook hands. Then the latter turned round,
and indicating by a gesture a young man who was behind him, said,
smiling:

"I have the pleasure of presenting to you my dear Jacintillo--a great
rogue, a feather-head, Senor Don Jose."



CHAPTER IX

THE DISAGREEMENT CONTINUES TO INCREASE, AND THEREAFTER TO BECOME DISCORD

Close beside the black cassock was a fresh and rosy face, that seemed
fresher and rosier from the contrast. Jacinto saluted our hero, not
without some embarrassment.

He was one of those precocious youths whom the indulgent university
sends prematurely forth into the arena of life, making them fancy that
they are men because they have received their doctor's degree. Jacinto
had a round, handsome face with rosy cheeks, like a girl's, and without
any beard save the down which announced its coming. In person he was
plump and below the medium height. His age was a little over twenty. He
had been educated from childhood under the direction of his excellent
and learned uncle, which is the same as saying that the twig had not
become crooked in the growing. A severe moral training had kept him
always straight, and in the fulfilment of his scholastic duties he