There is always good wine in the proximity of a convent.
Some one joining our party reported: that he had been jostled while passing through the streets; not by a mob of pelados, but by men who were known as the “young bloods” of the place.
Several others had like experiences to relate—if not of that night, as having occurred within the week.
The Monroe doctrine was touched; and along with it the Yankee “dander.”
We rose to a man; and sallied forth into the street.
It was still early. The pavement was crowded with pedestrians.
I can only justify what followed, by stating that there had been terrible provocation. I had been myself more than once the victim of verbal insult—incredulous that it could have been so meant.
One and all of us were ripe for retaliation.
We proceeded to take it.
Scores of citizens—including the swells, that had hitherto disputed the path—went rapidly to the wall: many of them to the gutter; and next day the banquette was left clear to any one wearing the uniform of “Uncle Sam.”