drops of holy water, and soon after there is heard in that enclosure of the dead, the murmur of the prayers they raise to Heaven.... Thus the afternoon passes: neither curiosity, nor the desire to see, nor other profane pastime, distract the attention of these simple villagers, who, absorbed in the sanctuary of their most intimate recollections, pray and sigh with tender and deep sadness.
When the evening shadows drive them thence, they bear the ofrendas to the interior of the houses. The lights are renewed, a sort of an altar is improvised upon which are placed the objects which before were on the graves, and other prayers and other mournings begin. It is not rare to see, high in some tree in the grove, or in some solitary and retired spot, a taper which gleams, in spite of the night breeze: it is the offering for the ánima sola (the lonely soul)—that is to say, of one who has in the village neither a relative nor a friend who remembers it and decorates its grave. A bit of bread and a little taper, and a prayer repeated for it—this is what each family dedicates to the soul of that unknown one.
Thus do the poor people of my village honor the memory of the dead.
THE STUDENT AT HOME.
The student who returns to his village is generally reputed to be a man of learning, who knows everything. The most perplexing questions are submitted to him, though they may be remote from the studies which he has pursued. If the priest is preparing a Latin inscription, he consults about it with the student; if the townspeople desire to make a petition to the town government, the chief of the district, or the governor of the state, they request the student to compose the document to be presented; if it is planned to celebrate with a festival the anniversaries of some prominent personage of the place, they invite, first of all, the newly-returned collegian, to pronounce a discourse and enthuse all with his words; if some person is seriously ill, they call the student to examine