When she was in their own yard once more, she set the turkey down and untied his head. Tonio let the rooster go, and Tita set the little white hen free, and they all three ran under Tonto’s shed as if they were afraid [p 39] they might get blessed again if they stayed where they could easily be caught. And they never came out until they had torn the tissue paper all to pieces and left it lying on the ground.
Tonio got the goat back to pasture by [p 40] walking in front of her, holding a carrot just out of reach, and Pancho took Pinto and the donkey down to the river for a drink, while Tita and her mother went into the cabin to get the second breakfast ready. When people get up so very early they need two breakfasts.
Doña Teresa was just patting the meal into cakes with her hands and cooking them over the brasero, when Pancho came in the cabin door with dreadful red streams running down his head and face and over his white cotton clothes!
When Doña Teresa saw him, she screamed and flew to his side. “What is it, my Pancho?” she cried. “You are hurt—you are killed, my angel! Oh, what has happened?”
She asked so many questions and poured out so many words that Pancho couldn’t get one in edgewise; so he just took off his hat, and there was the dish of chile sauce and tortillas broken all to bits, and the chile sauce spilled all over his face and clothes!
[p 41]
“It was that foolish Tonto that did it,” he said, when he could say anything at all. “I was just putting him back in his shed when he cried, ‘Hee-haw,’ and let fly with both hind feet at once and one of them just grazed my head, and broke the dish.”
Doña Teresa sat down heavily with her hand on her heart. “If anything had happened to you, my rose, my angel,” she said, “I should have died of sorrow! Tonto is indeed a very careless beast. It would seem as if the padrecito’s blessing might have put more sense into him. It must be the will of God that there should be a great deal of foolishness in the world, but without doubt donkeys and goats have more than their share.”
Just then she smelled the tortillas burning and ran back to attend to them, while Pancho washed himself at the trough, and mopped the chile sauce off his clothes.
In a little while the Twins and their father and mother were all sitting about on [p 42] the stones under the fig tree, eating their second breakfast. And when they had all had every bit they could hold, it was almost noon.