“Oh, yes,” and Santiago took from a tray which he had placed on the table a dish of black beans.
“Frijolles!” exclaimed Billie. “They look pretty good. I’m sure I can eat them,” and eat them he did.
“Are you Don Rafael’s mozo?” he asked as he finally finished his meal.
“Santiago is no man’s servant,” was the soft but dignified reply. “Santiago belongs to Mexico.”
“I wonder what he means by that?” thought Billie, but he didn’t think it wise to ask, so he simply said: “Oh!” But after a few minutes he ventured to ask:
“How do you come to speak English?”
“So that everyone who hears me will not understand. Don Rafael is the only one here who understands English. It is a foreign tongue.”
Again Billie replied “Oh!” to himself. He thought: “Funny, isn’t it, that English is a foreign language. I never thought of it before.”
“Do you wish to get up?” Santiago finally asked.
“After a little. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll lie here a while longer.”