to be done. The padre paid them every day for what they did; he would
give them clothes or something to eat, and they were very glad to work
for him; and it was only a short time when a great crowd was busy on the
buildings. My mother told me all this, Se–or, for that was long before I
was born, - more than fifteen years. She was a young girl then. My
mother told the Indians how good the padres were to them at San Diego,
and did all she could to bring them to work for the mission. I was her
first child, and, at her wish, the padre named me after himself -
Antonio. But all the mission buildings were finished in a few years, and
they, have never been changed except by falling into ruins. I have not
been to San Luis Rey for a long, long time, for I cannot bear to go
there and see the poor old buildings tumbling to the ground - at least
that is what they were doing until Padre O'Keefe came from Santa B‡rbara
to live there and take charge of the mission. I am glad it is in his
care; but he cannot bring back the old days, for the Indians are nearly
all gone now.

"But the Se–or wishes to hear about the padre. I think Padre Peyri was
nearly fifty years old when I was born, and he had been at the mission
all the time since he started it, about fifteen years before. How he did
love his mission, and how proud he was of it! And he was right to be
proud, for it was the finest mission in the country, and the largest
also. Every one who came there praised the padre for the wonders he had
done; and that made him very happy. After his day's work was over, he
liked to walk about in the neighborhood, looking at, and seeing,
everything - the ground, the trees and the sky, listening to the singing
of the birds, and watching the sun sink out of sight in the west; but
above all else, gazing at the mission, at the beautiful big church, and
the building and arches around the patio. Sometimes when I came to him
at his bidding, I would see him smiling to himself, as though he was