Of the Callejon Del Padre Lecuona

Who Padre Lecuona was, Senor, and what he did or had done to him in this street that caused his name to be given to it, I do not know. The Padre about whom I now am telling you, who had this strange thing happen to him in this street, was named Lanza; but he was called by everybody Lanchitas -- according to our custom of giving such endearing diminutives to the names of those whom we love. He deserved to be loved, this excellent Padre Lanchitas: because he himself loved everybody, and freely gave to all in sickness or in trouble his loving aid. Confessing to him was a pleasure; and his absolution was worth having, because it was given always with the approval of the good God. My own grandfather knew him well, Senor, having known a man who had seen him when he was a boy. Therefore this strange story about him is true.[7]

On a night -- and it was a desponding night, because rain was falling and there was a chill wind -- Padre Lanchitas was hurrying to the house of a friend of his, where every week he and three other gentlemen of a Friday evening played malilla together. It is a very serious game, Senor, and to play it well requires a large mind. He was late, and that was why he was hurrying.