"If my project were accepted—" Don Custodio ventured to remark, as if talking to himself.
"For the construction of schoolhouses?"
"It's simple, practical, economical, and, like all my projects, derived from long experience and knowledge of the country. The towns would have schools without costing the government a cuarto."
"That's easy," observed the secretary sarcastically. "Compel the towns to construct them at their own expense," whereupon all laughed.
"No, sir! No, sir!" cried the exasperated Don Custodio, turning very red. "The buildings are already constructed and only wait to be utilized. Hygienic, unsurpassable, spacious—"
The friars looked at one another uneasily. Would Don Custodio propose that the churches and conventos be converted into schoolhouses?
"Let's hear it," said the General with a frown.
"Well, General, it's very simple," replied Don Custodio, drawing himself up and assuming his hollow voice of ceremony. "The schools are open only on week-days and the cockpits on holidays. Then convert these into schoolhouses, at least during the week."
"Man, man, man!"
"What a lovely idea!"
"What's the matter with you, Don Custodio?"
"That's a grand suggestion!"
"That beats them all!"
"But, gentlemen," cried Don Custodio, in answer to so many exclamations, "let's be practical—what places are more suitable than the cockpits? They're large, well constructed, and under a curse for the use to which they are put during the week-days. From a moral standpoint my project would he acceptable, by serving as a kind of expiation and weekly purification of the temple of chance, as we might say."
"But the fact remains that sometimes there are cock-
