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The poet had done a masterly job of creating a narrative poem that spoke to the sensibilities of peo- ple familiar wit hurried up to whisper their replies, whereupon his face grew grave and he took Antonio by the arm. diligently to protect, and the idea of separating himself from the gallant struggle brought tears to his eyes. It formed a per- fect catacomb, its sides lined by dozens of amazing figures, men and women of all ages and sizes who

' In a soft, conciliatory voice the little poet said, 'I liked Aguilar and the ode. ' 'Only because your father never allowed me a clean shot at you. , Because the Indians of this later age focused their attention and their art so strongly on death and in such hideous ' 'That cheap, cheap bastard/ Ledesma muttered.