human
What is it, Basilio? Why are you crying?
gpt
I was dreaming. O mama! it was a dream, wasn't it? Say it was nothing but a dream!
human
What were you dreaming?
gpt
Tell me the dream, said Sisa, when he had lain down again.
human
I cannot sleep.
gpt
It is gone now, mama; I don't remember it all.
human
Mama, said Basilio after a moment of silence,
gpt
I'm not sleepy either. I had a project last evening. I don't want to be a sacristan.
human
What?
gpt
Listen, mama. The son of Don Rafael came home from Spain to-day; he should be as kind as his father. Well, to-morrow I find Crispin, get my pay, and say I'm not going to be a sacristan. Then I'll go see Don Crisµstomo and ask him to make me a buffalo-keeper. Crispin could go on studying with old Tasio. Tasio's better than the curate thinks; I've often seen him praying in the church when no one else was there. What shall I lose in not being a sacristan? One earns little and loses it all in fines. I'll be a herdsman, mama, and take good care of the cows and carabaos, and make my master love me; then perhaps he'll let us have a cow to milk: Crispin loves milk. And I could fish in the rivers and go hunting when I get big. And by and by perhaps I could have a little land and sow sugar-cane. We could all live together, then. And old Tasio says Crispin is very bright. By and by we would send him to study at Manila, and I would work for him. Shall we, mama? He might be a doctor; what do you say?
human
What can I say, except that you are right,