Early next morning
they are aroused from sleep by a tumult at their window. Through the
grating a number of boys are glaring in on them, capering and uttering
a variety of ejaculations. The secret of this popular demonstration is
soon explained, for almost at the same moment the door is opened
abruptly and the magistrate of the place makes his appearance, asking
in Spanish to see their passports and the passports of their horses.
The dispute thickens. Finally, M. Forgues, toying with his revolver,
proclaims that he and his companion are Frenchmen, and not
Paraguayans, that no passports are necessary to travel in the country,
and that they cannot be interfered with with impunity. At this a
change comes over the magistrate. He begs a thousand pardons, and
justifies his course as being merely in the interest of good order,
while declaring his belief in the entire respectability of our
traveler and his friend. Even in this solitary and almost deserted
village a school flourishes (and here it may be remarked in passing
that so diffused is public instruction in Paraguay that it is a rare
thing to meet with a Paraguayan who cannot sign his name), and when M.
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