The Helmet of Mambrino 



the shadow of a few stunted cork- 

 trees. Brown and dim as if clad in 

 dusty leather, the Sierra Morena lay 

 sleeping in the warm light. Away 

 up among the hazy summits were 

 pencilings of soft, cool color ; but we 

 were too far away to discern the rocks 

 and groves where Don Quixote did 

 his amorous penance. 



After riding long and silently, Sal- 

 azar addressed me : 



" Senor, this friend of yours, this 

 Don Horacio, will he ever come to 

 La Mancha?" 



"Quien sabe?" I replied; "but if 

 he comes you will certainly know him 

 and love him as he is known and loved 

 by his friend." 



To the Bachelor of San Francisco. K. 



36 



