This proving useless, he invoked
higher powers, and called on his pet saints by name--"Help me, San
Pedro, San Geronimo, Santa Lucia, San Juan." Still no result:--
Then his patience failed entirely--"If you won't help me, San Pedro," he
shouted, "come down and I'll fight you;" "Come down, San Juan, and I'll
take you both on together."
Still no reply.
Taking his hat off he placed it on the ground, made the motion of
clawing his guardians from the skies and placing them in his hat.
"Stay there, San Geronimo; Stay there, San Juan; Stay there, San Marco."
When his hat was full enough for his satisfaction he leapt into the air,
came down on it with both feet, and continued to dance on it for about
three minutes.
Thus, for a real or imagined slight, the streak of black blood will show
up and convert a friend into a relentless enemy.
It is not surprising when one considers the lack of civilising
influences which ought to be exerted from the top downwards, but which
have no root in the highest power they know, which is the arm of the
law. It might be interesting to note a few proofs of the corruption
which exists among those who wield the local weapons of justice--among
the commissaries, police, and justices of the peace.
The Chief of Police of----, for instance, a town of only about 7,000
inhabitants, refused L2,000 a year for the local gambling rights.
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