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CHAP: XVIII. AUTO DA FE.
Ramon saw Carlota and his boys in the city, but it was a rather fruitless meeting. A The elder boy was just uncomfortable in the presence with his father, but the younger, Cyprian, who was delicate and very intelligent, had a rather lofty air of displeasure with his parent.
“Do you know what they sing, papa?” he said.
“Not all the things they sing,” said Ramón.
“They sing—” the boy hesitated. Then, in his young voice, he piped up, to the tune of La Cucaracha:
Doña Carlota wished he would
He's going to wear the sky-blue cloak
That he's stole from the Mother of God.”
“No, I'm not,” said Ramón, smiling. “Mine's got a -snake and a bird in the middle, and black zigzags and a red fringe. You'd better come and see it.”
“No, papa! I don't want to.”
“Why not?””
“I don't want to be mixed up in this affair. It makes us all look ridiculous.”
“But how do you think you look anyhow, in your striped little sailor suit and your little saintly look? We'd better dress you as the Infant Jesus.”
“No, papa! You are in bad taste. One doesn't say those things.”
“Now you'll have to confess to a fib. You say one doesn't say those things, when I, who am your father, said them only a moment ago, and you heard me.”
“I mean good people don't. Decent people.”
“Now you'll have to confess again, for calling your father indecent.—Terrible child!”
The child flushed, and tears rose to eyes. There was silence for a while.
“So you don't want to come to Jamiltepec?” said 'Ramón, to his boys.
“Yes!” said the elder boy, slowly. “I want to come
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