his home, he having a house of his own in that village.

On the morning after our arrival at Taos, Uncle Kit said to me at
breakfast:

"Willie, there are a lot of Mexican boys here who would like to
play with you."

Some of them were standing near in a group, gazing at me in much
wonderment.

"But," continued Uncle Kit, "you will have to learn to speak their
language in order to have much fun. Go with them if you wish, and
tell me to-night how many words you have learned."

Then he spoke to the group of boys in their own tongue and told
them I wished to play with them but couldn't speak their language,
and wanted to learn.

We had a jolly time that day in many boyish games that I had never
seen, and when I came home Uncle Kit asked me how many words I had
learned.

"Three," I replied.

"Splendid!" he exclaimed. "'Twont be long fo' you are a fus'-class
Mexican."

One evening, after we had been in Taos about two weeks, Uncle Kit
told me to put on my best suit and he would take me to a fandango.