squaws, or asking him whether those dames are red
Living near savages, he has caught, as stronger men might catch, no little of their savage morals.
Yet the Mexican
don is no longer safe in his retreat at Monterey
Strangers poke their noses through his gates, enquire about his harem, and insist on showing him how to develop his estate.
How he dislikes their chatter about making roads and opening schools!
His fathers neither paved a road, nor built a school.
They kept a priest, who ruled their squaws and took their girls to mass.
That good old system suits him. What has he to do with roads and schools?
A rider, he prefers a grassy trail; a gentleman, what need has he for the accomplishments of a clerk?
Will science help him to throw sixes, and will letters kindle fire for him in female eyes?