the cactus give the golden poppy? Thou hast only love, eh? Well, that is much, though it grows from naught, as a China lily blooms from a bowl of rocks.”
He turned, and found himself before the Tree. Fir and pine massed their branches behind it, making a background of plushy green. Against that background, showing full, hung the torn and unclad shape. The moon glinted upon it, haloing the head of the Crucified.
The padre sank, bowing, and touched himself in the sign.
“Aw, To-o-ny! To-o-ny!” came a sleepy croak at his back. The parrot was settling herself for the night.
Padre Alonzo rose and turned,
