At 7.48, a party of dogs invaded the plaza fountain to enjoy a bath.
At 7.49, a party of peons drove the dogs out of the fountain to enjoy a drink.
At 7.50, the ragged urchin reappeared, having doubled around the cathedral. There were now six cops in pursuit, still tooting their whistles. Pursued and pursuers ran diagonally back across the plaza. At the southeast corner, a seventh policeman dived out from behind a rubbish can, and effected the capture. All marched away with a dignity that emphasized the majesty of the law. The plaza idlers settled back again. No one inquired the wherefore of the chase. All seemed sufficiently pleased that there had been such diversion.
At 8.00, the cathedral bells rang, not solemnly as though in invitation to mass, but rapidly and aggressively, commanding attendance.
At 8.01, two middle-aged male peons entered the church. They wore their shirts outside the pants, in Indian fashion, and were unconcernedly holding hands, like a pair of children.
At 8.35, more excitement! Policemen’s whistles were tooting again. This time a pig had invaded the plaza. Evidently pigs were not allowed there except when muzzled and on leash. Six policemen, assisted by a full corps of bootblacks, chased the snorting little porker around palm trees and through the flower beds.
At 8.37, the policemen formed an escort, and marched away again, still with dignity and majesty, escorting the latest captive to the police barracks.
At 9.00, the cathedral bell resumed its unhallowed racket.
At 9.08, Carmen Rosa María de la Concepción Purísima Rodríguez, who lived upstairs opposite the plaza, commenced her piano lesson, playing those rippling little Spanish melodies, with occasional pauses while she searched for the bass note.
At 9.09, I decided to stroll to the other side of the park.