“Beg pardon, but it isn’t a cup. It’s a basket. Old Marta made it. She can make some even beautifuller.”
“Indeed? What a skillful Marta she must be! This is the finest basket I ever saw.” Then, receiving the utensil from his father’s hand he dipped and offered it to the two Mexican servants. Afterward he quenched his own thirst, which must have been intense, for he drank so deeply before he finished.
“There! I thought you were a gentleman, if the other’s not,” remarked the observant Carlota, with satisfaction.
“Eh? Thank you, but I must claim that my father is, also, a gentleman.”
“Why then did he make Carlos get angry?”
“Maybe because he’s very tired and not used to boys. Where is the schoolroom you mentioned?”
“Why—this. We’re in it, now.”
The young man whistled in surprise, and exclaimed:
“Well, truly, this is a remarkable country! An out-of-door schoolroom. Is the sun your teacher?”
“My father is our teacher. Course, he knows everything there is, I guess.”