-Viii- · III

Shoes for Nela!” exclaimed Sofía with a laugh. “And I ask: what does she want them for?... She would not be two days wearing them out. You may laugh at me as much as you like... well, I understand that making a fuss over Lili is an extravagance... but you cannot accuse me of lacking charity.... Hold there! That I will never allow you to say (and as she spoke she assumed a very grave tone, with evident pride). And as to knowing how to practice charity with prudence and good sense, I do not believe anyone can outdo me either.... Charity does not consist in giving right and left without rhyme or reason, when one has no certainty that the alms will be properly employed. You would teach me lessons, indeed!... Look you, Teodoro, I know as much about that as you do about the treatise on eyes.”

“Yes, I know, I know, my dear, that you have worked wonders. Do not tell me again about the theatricals, balls, and bullfights organized by your ingenious brain for the relief of the poor, nor of the lotteries which, putting large sums into circulation, have served in the first place to feed a few idlers, leaving only a paltry remainder for the sick. All that only proves to me the peculiar customs of a society that knows not how to be charitable except by dancing, bullfighting, and gambling.... Let us say no more of that: I know those heroic deeds and admire them; that too has its merit, and no small one. But you and your lady friends rarely draw near a poor person to learn from their own lips the cause of their misery... or to observe what manner of distress afflicts them; for there are some miseries so extraordinary that they are not to be relieved by the easy gift of a farthing... nor yet by a crust of bread....”

“Now we have our philosopher in the field,” said Sofía testily. “What do you know of what I have done or left undone?”

“Do not be angry, my dear,” replied Golfín; “all my arguments come to one point, and that is that you ought to have bought shoes for Nela.”

“Well, look you, tomorrow morning I shall buy them for her.”

“No, for this very night I will buy them myself. Do not encroach upon my domain, madam.”

“Hey!... Nela!” shouted Sofía, seeing that the girl was some distance off. “Do not stray too far; let me see you, so that I may know what you are about.”

“Poor child!” said Carlos. “Who would guess she is sixteen years old!”

“She is backward, poor thing! What a misfortune!” exclaimed Sofía. “And I ask myself, why does God permit such creatures to live?... And I ask myself too, what can one do for her? Nothing, nothing but give her food, and clothe her up to a certain point.... You see how it is... she tears to shreds whatever is put upon her back. She cannot work, for she faints; she has no strength for anything. Skipping from stone to stone, climbing trees, playing and idling the live-long day, and singing like the birds, everything put on her is soon turned to rags....”

“Well, I have observed in Nela,” said Carlos, “some intelligence and sharpness of wit beneath that crust of artlessness and wild rusticity. No, sir, Nela is not stupid, far from it. If someone had taken the trouble to teach her something, she would have learned better, perhaps, than most children. What do you think? Nela has imagination; and having it, while lacking even the rudiments of instruction, she is sentimental and superstitious.”

“Just so; she is in the condition of primitive peoples,” said Teodoro. “She is in the pastoral age.”

“Yesterday, as it happened,” added Carlos, “I was passing by La Trascava and saw her in the very spot where we found her today. I called to her, made her come up, and asked what she was doing there; and with the greatest simplicity in the world she answered that she was talking with her mother.... You do not know that Nela’s mother threw herself into that chasm.”

“That is to say, she committed suicide,” said Sofía. “She was a woman of evil life and worse principles, according to what I have heard. Carlos was not here then; but they have told us that she drank like a stoker. And I ask myself: do such degraded beings, who crown a life of crime with the greatest of all, which is suicide, deserve the compassion of mankind? There are things that make one’s flesh creep; there are persons who ought never to have been born, no, sir; and Teodoro may say all the fine-spun subtleties he pleases, but I ask myself....”

“No, do not ask yourself anything, my dear sister,” interrupted Teodoro warmly. “I will answer you that the suicide deserves the liveliest, the most heartfelt compassion. As for blame, heap upon him all you have to spare, but at the same time... it would be well to inquire what causes drove him to so horrible an extremity of despair... I would see whether society had not left open to him, by utterly abandoning him, the gate of that hideous abyss that beckoned him....”

“Abandoned by society! There are some who are so...” said Sofía pertly. “Society cannot take care of everybody. Look at the statistics, Teodoro; look at them, and you will see the number of paupers.... But if society abandons anyone, what is religion for?”

“I refer to the wretched, despairing soul who joins to all other miseries the greatest misery of all, which is ignorance.... The degraded and superstitious ignorant person has only vague and absurd notions of the Deity.... The unknown, far from checking him, impels him all the more to commit his crime.... Rarely does the religious idea bring benefit to one who vegetates in stupid ignorance. No intelligent friend draws near him, no teacher, no priest. No one approaches him save the judge who must send him to the galleys.... It is remarkable with what severity you condemn your own handiwork,” he added with vehemence, waving the stick upon whose tip rested his hat. “You see before your eyes, at the very threshold of your comfortable houses, a multitude of abandoned creatures, lacking everything needful to childhood, from parents to toys... you see them, yes... it never occurs to you to breathe a little dignity into them, to let them know they are human beings, giving them the ideas they lack; it never occurs to you to ennoble them, raising them from brutal mechanical drudgery to the labor of the mind; you see them dwelling in filthy hovels, ill-fed, perfecting themselves every day in their savage rusticity, and it never occurs to you to extend to them a little of the comfort by which you are surrounded.... All your energy is reserved for declaiming against homicide, robbery, and suicide, without perceiving that you maintain a permanent academy for those three crimes!”

“I know not what our charitable institutions are for, then,” said Sofía tartly. “Read the statistics, Teodoro, read them, and you will see the number of unfortunates.... Read the statistics....”

“I do not read statistics, my dear sister, nor have I any need of your statistics. Charitable institutions are good; but no, they do not suffice to solve the great problem of orphanhood. The wretched orphan, lost in the streets and in the fields, destitute of all personal affection and sheltered only by corporate bodies, rarely fills the void made in his soul by the lack of a family... oh, that void where nobility, dignity, and self-respect ought to dwell, and where they so seldom are! On this subject I have an idea—it is my own notion; perhaps you will think it absurd.”

“Tell it to us.”

“The problem of orphanhood and child misery will never be fully solved, just as its companions, the other social problems, will never be fully solved; but there will be some relief to so great an evil when custom, supported by law—by law, you see this is no laughing matter—shall establish that every orphan, whatever his origin... do not laugh... shall have the right to enter, as an adopted child, the home of any well-to-do married couple that has no children. Matters would then be so arranged that there would be neither parents without children nor children without parents.”

“Under your system,” said Sofía, “things would be so arranged that we should be the parents of Nela.”

“Why not?” replied Teodoro. “Then we should not spend two hundred duros on a dog, nor spend the blessed day petting Master Lili.”

“And why should wealthy bachelors be exempt from this delightful law? Why should they not saddle themselves with their orphan too, like every mother’s son?”

“I do not object,” said the doctor, looking at the ground. “But what is this?... blood!”

All looked at the ground, where at intervals small spots of blood were visible.

“Heavens!...” exclaimed Sofía, turning away her eyes. “Why, it is Nela. Look what a state her feet are in.”

“To be sure.... She had to scramble into the brambles to catch your precious Lili. Nela, come here.”

Nela, whose right foot was bleeding, came limping toward them.

“Give me poor Lili,” said Sofía, taking the dog from the girl’s hands. “Mind you do not hurt him. Does it hurt much? Poor thing! It is nothing. Oh, what a lot of blood!... I cannot bear to look at it.”

Sensitive and nervous, Sofía turned her back, fondling Lili.

“Let us see, let us see what this is,” said Teodoro, taking Nela in his arms and seating her upon a stone of the roadside wall.

Putting on his eyeglasses, he examined the foot.

“It is a trifle; two or three scratches.... I believe you have a thorn inside.... Does it hurt?... Yes, here is the rogue.... Wait a moment. Sofía, walk on, if a surgical operation upsets you.”

While Sofía walked a few paces to protect her delicate nervous system from all disturbance, Teodoro Golfín drew out his case, from the case a pair of forceps, and in a twinkling extracted the thorn.

“Bravo for a brave girl!” he said, observing Nela’s calmness. “Now let us bandage the foot.”

With his handkerchief he bandaged the wounded foot. Marianela tried to walk. Carlos offered her his hand.

“No, no; come here,” said Teodoro, taking Marianela by the arms.

With a swift movement he lifted her into the air and set her upon his right shoulder.

“If you do not feel safe, hold on to my hair; it is strong enough. Now, carry the stick with the hat.”

“What a figure of fun!” exclaimed Sofía, ready to die of laughter on seeing them come. “Teodoro with Nela on his shoulder, and then the stick with Gessler’s hat....”

-X-

History of Two Sons of the People

“Here you have, my dear Sofía,” said Teodoro, “a man fit for anything. This is the result of our upbringing, is it not, Carlos? As we were not reared in luxury; as from our earliest childhood we grew accustomed to the thought that no one was beneath us.... Men who fashion themselves, as we fashioned ourselves; those who, without help from anyone, with no other stay than their own will and noble ambition, have succeeded in coming off triumphant in the struggle for existence... yes, by heaven, they are the only ones who know how a needy soul should be treated! I do not tell you various deeds of my life touching this matter of loving one’s neighbor as oneself, so as not to fall into the ugly sin of self-praise and for fear of making your lotteries and philanthropic dances jealous. Let that rest here.”

“Tell them, tell them again, Teodoro.”

“No, no... all that should be kept secret; modesty demands it. I confess I do not possess that precious virtue in any high degree; I am not without my vanities, and among them is the vanity of having been a beggar, of having asked alms from door to door, of having gone barefoot with my little brother Carlos and slept with him in doorways, without shelter, without a coat, without family. I know not what extraordinary ray of energy and will flashed within me. I had an inspiration. I saw that two paths opened before our steps: the galleys or glory. I hoisted my poor little brother on my shoulders, just as I carry Nela today, and said: ‘Our Father who art in heaven, save us!’... And the truth is we were saved. I learned to read and taught my brother to read. I served various masters who gave me food and allowed me to go to school. I saved my tips; I bought a money box.... I scraped together enough to buy books.... I know not how I got into the Piarist school, but get in I did, while my brother earned his bread running errands in a grocery shop....”

“What notions you have!” exclaimed Sofía, much annoyed, for she hated to hear that subject broached. “And I ask myself: what is the use of recalling such childish things? Besides, you exaggerate greatly.”

“I exaggerate nothing,” said Teodoro with spirit. “Madam, listen and hold your tongue.... I am going to set up a professorship of this.... Hear me, all ye poor, all ye forsaken, all ye lost children!... I entered the Piarist school as God willed; I learned as God willed.... A worthy father gave me good advice and helped me with his alms.... I took a liking to medicine.... How was I to study it without ceasing to work for my bread? A terrible problem!... Dear Carlos, do you remember when we both went to ask for work in a barber’s shop in the old Calle de Cofreros?... We had never held a razor in our hands; but we had to earn our bread by shaving.... At first we were assistants... do you remember, Carlos?... Later we handled those noble implements.... Phlebotomy was our salvation. I began to study anatomy. A wondrous, divine science! So heavy was the academic work that I had to leave the barber shop of the famous master Cayetano.... The day I took my leave, he wept.... He gave me two duros, and his wife presented me with a pair of her husband’s old trousers.... I took service as a valet. God protected me by always giving me good masters. My passion for study interested those worthy gentlemen, who left me free as much time as they could. I studied through the night. I studied in my sleep. I was in a fever, and while brushing the clothes I would rehearse in my memory the bones of the human skeleton.... I remember that brushing my master’s coats served me to study myology.... Cleaning a sleeve, I would say: ‘Deltoid muscle, biceps, supinator longus, ulnar’; and on the trousers: ‘Gluteal muscles, psoas, gastrocnemius, tibial, etc....’ In that house they gave me scraps of food, which I carried to my brother, who lodged with some worthy old-clothes dealers. Do you remember, Carlos?”