TO THE COUNTRY
HOME again! At first it seemed to Fernando as if he could never go back
to school, for after his week of fêtes and processions and fun, lessons
were dull things, but he soon fell into the old ways, and there were so
many pleasant things at home that he did not pine for Sevilla at all.
He had a pet lamb--what boy has not in spring-time in Spain?--and he
was devoted to it for awhile, trying to feed it all manner of things.
"Manuel," he said one day, "I do not know what is wrong with my pet
lamb. It will not eat the things I give it. I have never seen so
stubborn a thing. Mazo is far different. It will eat anything at all,
but the lamb stands and stares at me, and shuts its mouth, no matter
what I offer him."
"Lambs are always stubborn," said Manuel. "They do not eat much but
milk when they are so young. But here, I have a new kite; will you fly
it?"
"Indeed I will," cried the boy, and in an instant the lamb was
forgotten, and he was skipping down the street, his kite skimming the
air like a gaily coloured bird.
It was a beautiful spring in Granada, and Fernando spent every minute
out of doors unless actually compelled to be in school or in bed. The
family ate in the lovely _patio_ where the flowers were beginning to
blossom, and the sun was not too warm to do without the awning, which
in summer stretched overhead. If it was not kites in which he was
interested, it was marbles and ball, or even a play bull-fight; and
Fernando was very proud when he was chosen to be "toro," and put his
head in a basketwork affair with points like horns, and the boys chased
him with sticks, running, jumping, and dodging when he turned and
charged them as he had heard that the bulls did at the real _corridos_.
Best of all, it was time to have his head shaved, and of all things
that was what he liked. His mother mourned, for the boy's hair was
naturally curly, and in winter was as soft and pretty as black velvet.
But all Spanish boys have their heads shaved in summer, and Fernando
must be like the rest. It was cut so close that it made him look very
funny, and his great black eyes shone like beads in his lean brown
face, with no soft hair to soften its harsh outlines.
Fernando and Antonio were still devoted friends. They played together
after school and on the holidays, and many delightful times did the two
boys have, either in the Alhambra or at Fernando's home, where there
were many city sights as interesting to Antonio as the delights of the
old palace were to Fernando.
So devoted had they become that Fernando felt very sorry to leave his
friend when the time came for him to accompany his mother and sister
to their country home. Generally he had been delighted to go to the
_hacienda_, and enjoyed the country school even more than the one he
attended in the city, but this year he felt so badly over it that his
father said:
"Never mind, my son. I shall bring Antonio out to visit you when school
is over, and you may have a fine time together at the _hacienda_." This
made Fernando more contented, and he went away with his parents quite
happily.
As they started for the country on a bright May day, Juanita said, "Oh,
mamma, see that strange cow! It is all dressed with flower-wreaths,
and has bells around its neck and flowers on its horns. Why does that
young girl lead it, and that old blind man walk behind, and blow that
horn and beat the drum?"
"That is a cow to be won in a lottery," said the señora. "Manuel, stop;
I wish to buy a ticket. How we Spaniards do love a game of chance! See,
I shall buy a ticket for each one of you, and maybe your number will
win the prize."
"Oh, thank you, mamma!" both children cried, for neither had ever had a
lottery ticket before.
"Now I wish you to stop at a cigar-store, and buy a stamp[13] for my
letter to your Aunt Isabella, and then we will drive on."
As they turned into the main street leading to the Alameda, Juanita
asked, "Oh, _mi madre_, what are those people sitting in the streets
making?"
"Haven't you seen the ice-cream makers before?" said the señora. "No,
I think you cannot remember last summer, can you? The gipsies go up to
the Sierras in the very early morning, and get donkey-loads of snow,
and the people make ice-cream in those pails with the snow in it. They
sit right at their doors on the sidewalk and make the fresh cream, and
any one can buy a glass of it."
"Do let us have some," cried the children, and their indulgent mother
ordered the horses stopped while they ate some of the delicious fresh
cream.
As the carriage rolled on down the steep street, so narrow that as
Manuel said "one can hardly pass another after a full dinner," the
swineherd was just coming out for the day, and Juanita cried:
"Oh, _madre_! See that man with the pipe in his mouth; what queer music
he plays! What is he?"
"He is the swineherd, _niña_. See, he comes from his alley, staff in
hand," the señora said. "Watch him blow his pipe without turning his
head, and the pigs come after him, as if he had charmed them. Little
and big, dark and light, fat and scrawny, there they come following him
to pasture. Every alley we pass adds some curly tail to the procession.
Now he is ready to turn out of the town into that grove, and see what
an army of piggies follows him! He never looks for any of them, but
they hear the music of his pipe and start because they learned long ago
that it leads them to good pastures."
"I think they are too funny for anything," said the little girl. "Does
he bring them back at night?"
"Yes, and every little piggy knows his own alley, and goes right home
with a little frisk of his curly tail to say 'good night,'" said her
mother, smiling.
"See those oxen; are they not splendid fellows? I love to see them draw
their loads so easily. Beautiful creamy creatures, with their dark
points and their great, soft eyes."
"What is that wooden thing over their heads?" asked Juanita.
"That is the yoke to couple them together. They are the gentlest
animals in the world, these great, hornèd beasts, and the driver walks
in front of them with a stick over his shoulder, which he seldom thinks
of using."
"Oh, what a cunning little donkey!" cried the little girl, as they
passed a tiny donkey laden with panniers filled with flowers, fruit,
vegetables, bread, fowls, and even a water-jar. "How prettily he is
clipped, all in a pattern."
"Mamma," said Fernando, "some of the donkeys that the gipsies have
clipped have mottoes and pictures on them. I know a boy whose donkey
has '_Viva mi Amo_'[14] on his side. I don't like that, for if the
donkey doesn't love his master, it is telling a story."
His mother laughed. "We will hope he has a good little master, and then
the donkey will care for him and not be telling a falsehood with his
fur.
"But here we are almost to the _hacienda_, and how short the ride has
seemed. Now if two children I know are good, we shall have a delightful
summer, and although you are to be in the country, and thou, Fernando,
will go to a country school, remember the saying of thy fathers:
"'Quando fueres par despoblado
Non hagas desaquisado,
Porque quando fueres per poblado
Iras a lo vesado.'"[15]
FOOTNOTES:
[13] In Spain stamps are sold in cigar-stores, not at the post-office.
[14] I love my master.
[15] When you are in the wilderness do not act ill, or when you are
among people you will do likewise.