“A relative of mine who is a monk,” he said, “is always reprehending me, and saying: ‘Lucas, you are a Free-Thinker.’... ‘And it’s greatly to my credit,’ I tell him.”
Then, apropos of his monkish relative, he told a scandalous story. A niece of the Chinaman’s, who had served for some while in the café, had gone to live with this monk.
Uncle Chinaman’s account of it was rather grotesque.
“I had a niece,” he said, “in the house, you know, very spruce, very good-looking, with breasts as hard as a rock. My wife loved her as ‘muchly’ as if she had been our daughter, and so did I. Suddenly we heard the poor child had made a false step... or two false steps... and a little while later the girl was in a bad condition. Well, then; she went to town, and came back here to the café, and again we heard that the poor child had made a false step... or two false steps; and as I have daughters, you know, this ‘pro... missiousness’ didn’t please me, and I went and told her: ‘Look here, Maria, this isn’t right at all, and what you ought to do is get out.’ She understood me, and went away, and went to her uncle the monk, and the two of them formed a ‘cohabit.’... Curse her! I went after them; and if I ever find them, I’ll kill them. All very well for the poor child to make a false step... or two false steps; but this thing of getting into a ‘cohabit’ with a monk, and he her uncle, that is a ‘hulimination’ for the family. You may believe that we had to empty the cup down to the ‘drugs.’”
FATHER MARTIN
Cæsar was listening to Uncle Chinaman with joy, when he saw two friars passing along the road below the balcony.
“They are from the monastery of la Peña, I suppose,” he said.
The Chinaman looked out and replied:
“One of them is the prior, Father Lafuerza. The other is an intriguing young chap who has been here only a short while.”
“Man, I have to see them,” said Cæsar.