On the bright Sabbath morning Toney Belton and his companions were following an immense crowd of people along the banks of the Rimac, in the direction of the bull-fight, when they were compelled to halt and listen to a polemical controversy between the Professor and M. T. Pate. The latter had followed along quietly, and without observation, until accidentally discovering their destination, he stood still and refused to proceed. In vain did the Professor try argument and blandishment to remove his scruples of conscience. On the first day of the week Pate was immovably pious.
"Come along, Mr. Pate!" said the Professor, in a coaxing tone.
"This is the Sabbath," said Pate, "and a day of rest."
"But," said the Professor, "in this country the churches are always open, and the people are praying every day in the week, and the only way for them to rest is to stop praying on Sunday and do something else. When you are in Rome do as Rome does."
"Everybody is going to the bull-fight," said Toney.
"Yonder is a carriage-load of bishops," said the Professor.
"And look at those two shovel-hats jogging along on their mules," said Tom Seddon.
"This is Sunday," said Pate, solemnly shaking his head.
"I have been informed by the oldest inhabitant that Sunday has never yet got around Cape Horn," said the Professor.