412 THREE YEARS IN THE PACIFIC. 



chicha, and another of mote. The padre plied his gourd spoon 

 so rapidly, that every thing like articulation was precluded, but, 

 true Spaniard like, never forgetting politeness, he conveyed 

 an invitation to us, by pointing into the dish, and nodding his 

 head, with a look which made the whole gesture quite intelli- 

 gible. The custom house officer was not far behind his com- 

 panion. One of the curs was disposed to join them, in spite of 

 the rebuffs given him by the priest, under whose arm he now 

 and then found an opportunity to run his nose into the dish, 

 and scamper ofi' with a piece of hot meat. We joined in eat- 

 ing mote and drinking chicha, and I ventured to compliment 

 the Indian on her cookery ; her only reply was Ay ! Sefior," 

 spoken in the usual half singing kind of tone, as she continued 

 poking the fire. 



We followed the whole party, after they had ended the 

 feast, to the billiard room, where some were playing billiards, 

 while others, seated in the corners, were gambling with dice 

 or cards. The young men pass their evenings in this way, and 

 when they lose, always attribute it to some unusual run of 

 luck. Last night a custom house officer lost all his money with 

 the curate and some others, who left him seated on a bench, 

 holding fast to his chin, staring vacantly on the billiard table, 

 and looking like a man in despair. To night, however, he was 

 in luck ; the curate grew desperate, and increased his bets till 

 he placed all he had in his pocket on the table. The devil was 

 in the dice, for they rolled against the clergyman and in favor 

 of the custom house officer, who, amidst the dead silence of 

 the astonished losers, swept the table, apparently delighted in 

 prolonging the chinking of the silver and gold, as they drop- 

 ped from sight, piece by piece, into his straw hat, and in his 

 turn walked off, leaving the curate to console himself with a 

 paper cigar. Whether long habit had inured him to losses, 

 whether his profession had taught him resignation, or whether 

 he derived consolation from the little paper cigar that smoked 

 so cheerfully around his nose, I could not determine, but the 

 fact is, he did not appear to be much distressed. The custom 

 house officer, flushed with success, ventured his winnings at 

 another game, on the opposite side of the room. Directly there 



