The interest had died out of Francisco's eyes and he sat with his hands clasped over his knees.
"Well, Uncle Juan, I'll tell you. I'm disappointed!"
"Disappointed! How?"
"Uncle Juan, I don't think that's fair play or good sport."
"Que esperanza!" exclaimed his uncle, secretly proud of the boy's loyalty to his conviction, but determined to draw him out on the subject.
"And who are you that you may sit in judgment on generals and captains?"
"Oh! I don't think one's rank has anything to do with one's opinions. Uncle, if a peon thinks a thing is not right he must not do that even though the President, himself, commands him; and I don't think hunting animals in that fashion is fair. The little English boy I play with at school is always saying that we Spaniards are not—well, he calls it 'sporty.' That's their English word for it. He says that the Englishmen are the truest sports on earth and that they would never hunt as we do."
"To a certain extent he is right, Francisco. We don't care for the excitement of the chase merely for the excitement as they do; we are less active in our temperament, and prefer to gain our ends with the least expenditure of energy. I want you, above all things, my lad, to be broad-minded, and able to see your own shortcomings, so think this matter out and if you are convinced that we are not right as a people, in our attitude towards sports, or anything else for that matter, formulate your own opinions and then stick to them.
"It is through such men that all nations grow; and the men that are able to see their national deficiencies are the great men, the reformers, and the leaders.
"But in regard to the ostriches. How would you catch them if you had the opportunity?"