Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1885-06-21

turned out to be pleasant young fell
low Of two-and-twenty or thereaoouts,
with soft brown eyes, smile that was
the very essence Of good nature, and a
great shock Of curly brown hair. He
was born in Texcoco, he told us, and
in Texcoco he had devoted his life to
the study Of art; for his father also
was an artist, and from his father
his instruction had been re-
ceived. If the size Of an artists
pictures is an evidence Of artistic
proficiency, Feliciano was to be con-
graduated upon the prodigious advance
that he had already accomplished in his
professional career-for he was sur
rounded by pictures of the most heroic
dimensions. His studio was great
room twenty or thirty feet square, in an
old adobe house, and the walls were
completely covered with his own and
his fathers works. Mostly saints were
these big pictures, destined for church
decoration. The painting was of the
smooth, old-fashioned sort that has
to be very good indeed to save
it from being very bad; but a
few portraits and q few studies Of
local subjects were painted in some
what holder fashion, and possessed
especially in the case Of two bull-fght-
ing studies-a good deal Of spirit and
force. We spent half an hour very
pleasantly in looking at Fellciano'S
work and in talking art with him; but
so far as the purport of our visit was
concerned our time was thrown away.
Feliciano knew no more Of the anti
quarry than did the bust Of NstZahual-
coyotl in the plaza, or, for that matter.
than did the original Netzahualcoyotl
himself.
From the studio we drifted down
TO THE OLD CHURH OF SAN FRAN
CISCO,
bad in detail, as most Spanish archi-
lecture is, but, in common with all
Spanish architecture, very fine in mass.
Here we fell in with the Sacristan, Ge-
ronimo Lula, a sedate, serious man--as
the sacristan Of so old and so important
a church should be. He came upon us
while was in the act Of photograph
ing the chapel; and when he found
that this performance was not sacri-
legious-as at first he was inclined to
regard it--he assumed an air of grim
afability and solemnly led us about to
see what was to be seen. There was
nothing peculiar about the church
save the head Of saint, preserved in
a glass case, and placed so high up
over one of the affairs that | cannot
say whether it was made Of wax or
really was, as Geronimo declared. the
vertable head miracplously preserved.
Geronimo introduced us to his brother,
Antonio, dear old fellow, full of mel
low kindness, the result of his sixty
five well-Spcnt years. There was a
gentlenesS and sweetness Of manner
about this good old man that endeared
him to rs at once, and he seemed to
like us too. He had a little shop.
though what he sold in it am sure
cannot tell There was no merchandise
visible. In what had been part Of
the convent and back Of the shop was
his house, its doors and windows open
ing upon tiny, sunny garden, closed
in against north winds by the high wall
Of the gray old church. Against the
church wall were many tombs, and
by one Of these the old man
paused. Here is my father" he said,
not sorrowfully, but much in the tone
that he would have used had we come
upon his father standing there alive in
a shady nook among the trees. The
tomb was made in the shape of an
altar, its back against the church wall.
He told us with much pride and salts
faction that mass had been said here
very resting and comforting to his
fathers soul. Many Of the monks
who once inhabited the convent were
buried in this quiet, sunny place. Some
of the graves had over them carved
stones; some were unmarked. But
without reference to the stones, Antonio
told us who was buried IN each grave
Fray Francisco here, Fray Nicolas there.
The old man knew them all and spoke
a kindly word or two about each, as
one might speak pleasantly and quietly,
beside sleeping friend.
But neither Of the brothers Lula
knew aught Of our antiquary. After
much discussion of the matter they adj
vised us to 90 to the botica. At the
boticd we probably would find the cura,
who was a wise man, and certainly
would know if there was in TeXcOco
this antiquary whom we sought. AT the
apothecary's we did not find the cura,
but We found that the apothecary was
our lank, black-clad, respectable fellow
passenger on the second-class train. He
welcomed us with benignant effusion,
and informed us that his house was ours.
We thanked him in becoming terms,
and told him that we had been sent
there as to the centre of TexcOcan in
telligence to find the curd, from whom
we hoped TO obtain the antiquary's
name and address. The apothecary
regretted the eura'S absence. The ezra
came there often, he said, with a not
upjustfisble pride, that he might talk
Of affairs. As to antiquaries in
Texcoco, he was free to say that
he never had heard Of them. But,
he added, here, living in this very
house, was a queer sort Of man who
had an inOrdinate fondness for all sorts
of old things, even for the old Aztec
idols Of stone. This had a promising
sound, certainly. Could see the queer
sort Of man who liked old things? The
apothecary answered that he would go
to see. Presently he came back. No,
the Senior could not see him. Why?
Because he was now in his bath. When
would he be out Of his bath? Probably
he would have ended his bath and put on
his clothes in an hours time. Had he
known Of the Sehor's coming he would
not have bathed that day. The Senior
replied that had he known that this
was his day for bathing he would have
chosen another day for his visit. Under
existing circumstances he could only
apologize and return an hour later.
! Tho ann,hacorv aceured tho Sanor that