354 



THE IRRIGA TION AGE. 



quickly seated together under an 

 embowering acacia regaling our- 

 selves with the warm, and some- 

 what strong as well as strengthen- 

 ing draught. 



The color had mounted to her 

 cheeks with exercise; her jet black 

 hair, loosened by the wind, fell in 

 shining masses over her shoulders, 

 while her features, animated by 

 the novelty of the scene and now 

 beaming with girlish pleasure, 

 were even comelier than before. 



"Do you want to listen to a sto- 

 ry?,' I asked. "Only you must 

 first tell me your name; I never 

 talk to little girls much unless I 

 know their names. But if is Jero- 

 nima, or Eulalia, or Tiburcia, or 

 Idelfonsa, or Eustaquia, or Leoca- 

 dia, or Dionisia, or Hipolita, or 

 Policarpa 



"Hold! for the sake of the Vir- 

 gin," she cried, stopping her ears, 

 "You'll frighten every bird from 

 the chaparral with your hideous 

 clamor." 



"Or Murcielaga," I continued; 

 whereupon she sealed further ut- 

 terance with an indignant palm, 

 but instantly withdrew her hand, 

 sending her bright laughter far 

 over the thicket. 



"My name is Guadalupe, Senor, 

 but 1 am called Lupe at home, and 

 by my companions in the village." 



The appellation had a ferocious 

 sound, contrasting strangely with 

 the gentle disposition of its pos- 

 sessor. 



"Then, if you promise to be very 

 good and quiet, and neither move 

 nor smile, nor, above all, ask any 

 questions, I will tell you a story, 

 Lupe, and you must know that sto- 

 ries are always true, at least mine 



are, because it is impossible to- 

 prove that they are not so." 



The story itself is of little con- 

 sequence. Enough, that being 

 aware of the charm which hyper- 

 bole has for theSpanish imagination 

 I endued my characters with the- 

 supernatural qualities, and con- 

 ducted them through the appalling 

 situations, calculated to induce 

 nightmare in the mind of the girl, 

 togeiher with sufficient fairy ele- 

 ment to captivate her innocent 

 fancy, the tale being interwoven 

 with startling incongruities and an 

 absolute disregard of logical se- 

 quence, designed to stimulate the 

 very queries she had solemnly pro- 

 mised to withhold. 



To repress the exuberance of 

 feeling awakened by the narrative- 

 was quite beyond me. Lupe rolled 

 upon the grass and screamed with 

 excitement as adventure followed 

 adventure, and only the intense 

 seriousness I assumed,, prevented 

 her, I am sure, from momentarily 

 interrupting me. 



Meanwhile, I had ample op- 

 portunity to mark the character of 

 the girl in the varied play of 

 emotions that now illuminated, now 

 subdued her fair, mobile counten- 

 ance, in which were mirrored the 

 subtle impulses of her hidden life,, 

 lending to her beauty the airy, 

 evanescent charm that might haunt 

 an Undine, or wake the rollicking 

 mirth of a Marchioness. 



As I ended, there was a bewild- 

 ered expression upon her face,. 

 Perhaps she was endeavoring to 

 trace the connection between the- 

 Prince's slaughter of the enemy 

 in defence of his bride, and the- 

 remote spectacle of the cameleo- 



