150 



INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL. 



receive some more distinct account of this oracular 

 stone." 



The world — meaning thereby the two classes into 

 which an author once divided it, of subscribers and 

 non-subscribers to his work — the world that reads these 

 pages is indebted to Don Saturnino for some additional 

 information. The stone was sewed up in a piece of 

 cotton cloth drawn tight, which looked certainly as old as 

 the thirty-five years it had been under the cura's charge, 

 and probably was the same covering in which it was 

 enveloped when first laid on the top of the altar. One 

 or two stitches were cut in the middle, and this was 

 perhaps all we should have seen ; but Don Saturnino, 

 with a hurried jargon of " strange, curious, sacred, in- 

 comprehensible, the provesor's letter, minister of New- 

 York," &c, whipped out his penknife, and the good 

 old padre, heavy with agitation and his own weight, 

 sunk into his chair, still holding on with both hands. 

 Don Saturnino ripped till he almost cut the good old 

 man's fingers, slipped out the sacred tablet, and left the 

 sack in the padre's hands. The padre sat a picture of 

 self-abandonment, helplessness, distress, and self-re- 

 proach. We moved toward the light, and Don Satur- 

 nino, with a twinkle of his eyes and a ludicrous earnest- 

 ness, consummated the padre's fear and horror by 

 scratching the sacred stone with his knife. This orac- 

 ular slab is a piece of common slate, fourteen inches by 

 ten, and about as thick as those used by boys at school, 

 without characters of any kind upon it. With a strong 

 predilection for the marvellous, and scratching it most 

 irreverently, we could make nothing more out of it. Don 

 Saturnino handed it back to the padre, and told him 

 that he had better sew it up and put it back ; and prob- 

 ably it is now in its place on the top of the grand altar, 



