THE SONG OF THE LARK
body was disgusted with Mrs. Tellamantez for putting up with him. She ought to discipline him, people said; she ought to leave him; she had no self-respect. In short, Mrs. Tellamantez got all the blame. Even Thea thought she was much too humble. To-night, as she sat with her back to the moon, looking at the moonflowers and Mrs. Tellamantez's somber face, she was thinking that there is nothing so sad in the world as that kind of patience and resignation. It was much worse than Johnny's craziness. She even wondered whether it did not help to make Johnny crazy. People had no right to be so passive and resigned. She would like to roll over and over in the sand and screech at Mrs. Tellamantez. She was glad when the doctor came out.
The Mexican woman rose and stood respectful and expectant. The doctor held his hat in his hand and looked kindly at her.
"Same old thing, Mrs. Tellamantez. He 's no worse than he 's been before. I 've left some medicine. Don't give him anything but toast water until I see him again. You 're a good nurse; you 'll get him out." Dr. Archie smiled encouragingly. He glanced about the little garden and wrinkled his brows. "I can't see what makes him behave so. He 's killing himself, and he 's not a rowdy sort of fellow. Can't you tie him up someway? Can't you tell when these fits are coming on?"
Mrs. Tellamantez put her hand to her forehead. "The saloon, doctor, the excitement; that is what makes him. People listen to him, and it excites him."
The doctor shook his head. "Maybe. He 's too much for my calculations. I don't see what he gets out of it."
"He is always fooled,"—the Mexican woman spoke rapidly and tremulously, her long under lip quivering. "He is good at heart, but he has no head. He fools himself. You do not understand in this country, you are progressive. But he has no judgment, and he is fooled." She stooped quickly, took up one of the white conch-shells that bordered
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