A STRANGER ARRIVES
"Do not cry any more, Pilly," said her grandfather. "You have done no
harm by keeping the castanets. Perhaps you have done good. I shall tell
you why later on. But first let us have our dinner."
Pilar tried to smile. She brushed away her tears. Her grandfather was
actually hungry! Oh, this meant that really and truly he was getting
well!
Pilar started toward the kitchen. She had planned such a splendid dinner
for tonight, and now they would be obliged to eat beans and drink milk.
If only she could prepare her grandfather's favorite omelet stuffed
with creamed fish, or a bowl of stew, made out of chick-peas, garlic,
potatoes, sausage, peppers, and cabbage! But--
What was that white thing lying under the door? Pilar stooped down and
picked up a letter. It was postmarked "U.S.A."
Now very few of Pilar's friends would have known what those initials
meant. And even if they had been told, many of them would have shrieked
with laughter and cried, "Only red Indians live there!"
But Pilar's grandfather had been in America long ago, and, of course,
her mother had danced there.
The letter came from Antonio Santaella, and that was Tony--Tony, who had
lived in Seville as a boy and was now an important merchant in America.
Enclosed in the letter, Pilar found paper bills--money--more money than
Pilar and her grandfather had seen in many years!
Tony wrote that he would always remember Pilar's mother, known as "The
Little Spanish Dancer." He also asked Pilar whether she, too, would
become a dancer when she grew up.
Pilar's eyes shone.
"Oh, Grandfather!" she cried. "What a kind man Señor Tony is! How much I
love him! How I wish to be a dancer like my mother! Shall we have eggs
or stew for dinner?" She had said it all in one breath. She rushed to
open the door on her way to market, adding, "I shall be right
ba--pf-f-f!"
With a terrible thud, Pilar had bumped into a tall gentleman who stood
at the door. It was the great dancing master.
"Good evening," he said. "Are you Señorita Pilar?"
[Illustration: A NET MAKER, SEVILLE]
Pilar backed into the room. She looked like a scared little rabbit. What
did he want? Had he come to take her castanets?
"Ah, yes, you are the Señorita Pilar," continued the gentleman. He came
into the room, closed the door behind him, and sat down calmly.
"And this, I believe, is señor, your grandfather. No?" He smiled at the
old man, who lay quietly in his bed. "You see, I found out all about
you, señorita. After you ran away from me in the garden, I made up my
mind to follow you, and I did."
Suddenly Pilar's eyes flashed angrily.
"You cannot have the castanets!" she cried.
She was standing in the center of the room, and her face was white with
fury. Her small body was drawn up, rigid and tense.
"I'll never let you have them!" she screamed. "They're mine! Mine!
Mine!"
She stamped her foot and threw back her head. But the tall gentleman did
not seem in the least disturbed. He just sat there looking at her and
smiling as if he were watching a play.
Indeed, one had the impression that he might begin to clap at any
moment. But he did not.
Instead, he just laughed good-naturedly and said, "What a little
firecracker you are! And how graceful, too! Now, listen, child."
He had stopped smiling. He leaned forward and spoke to Pilar in a
serious voice.
"Listen to me, Pilar," he said. "I do not want your castanets if you do
not care to sell them to me. But--" He hesitated for a moment while
Pilar stared at him, still with that look of anger and fear in her eyes.
"But I do want something else!"
Pilar's grandfather raised himself upon his pillow. "What is it that you
wish, Señor?" he asked.
"The Little Spanish Dancer!" replied the gentleman. "I want Pilar!"
[Illustration: TOLEDO]
Both Pilar and her grandfather started. What was this man talking about?
"I want to take Pilar to my school," he went on, "and teach her. For I
believe that some day she will be a wonderful dancer. And I should know,
for I have taught some of the best dancers in Spain."
Now Pilar realized who he was. Often she had passed the window of his
dancing school. She had watched the fortunate pupils and listened to the
strains of a tango and the clatter of castanets.
Upon the walls of the school were colored posters showing scenes of
bullfights. Girls and boys, young and old, stamped their feet and
twirled to fiery music.
It had always made Pilar's heart beat faster. She had longed to join
them. But lessons were only for wealthy children and--
"But, señor," said Pilar's grandfather, as if he had been reading
Pilar's mind, "we have no money to spend on lessons."
"I shall ask no money," replied the dancing master. "No. Our school will
some day be proud of Señorita Pilar."
He stood up and put out his hand to the little girl.
"Come tomorrow for your first lesson," he said. "My brother will
instruct you. My brother, you know, is the second greatest dancing
master in Spain."
"And who is the first, señor?" asked Pilar's grandfather.
"Why, I am, of course!" answered the tall man proudly, and walked out of
the room.
When he had left, there was much rejoicing in the tiny house. Pilar went
out and bought a basket full of good things, and they had dinner.
After dinner, they sat together, silent and happy, the old man's
wrinkled hand caressing the child's glossy black hair.
Then all at once, in a low, mysterious voice, the grandfather began to
recite:
"_Castanets, with magic spell,
Never lose or give or sell;
If you do, then grief and strife
Will follow you through all your life._"
[Illustration: PILAR AND HER GRANDFATHER]
When he had told Pilar about the magic castanets and the legends with
their strange lessons, she felt a wave of joy sweep through her.
"Oh, then, it must have been the magic of the castanets that brought us
all this good fortune, Grandfather!" she cried.
Her grandfather smiled wisely and shook his head.
"No, Pilly," he said. "Good fortune always comes to those who think good
thoughts and who work hard. There is no magic in that."
THE END
PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY
Alcazar äl-kä´thär
Algeciras [)a]l´j[+e]-s[=e]´r[.a]s
Andalucia än´dä-l[=oo]-th[=e]´ä
Avila ä´v[+e]-lä
Babieca bä bie´ca
Barcelona bär´s[)e]-l[=o]´n[.a]
Boabdil b[=o]´äb-d[=e]l´
Burgos b[=oo]r´g[=o]s
Cadiz k[)a]d´[)i]z
Castanet k[)a]s´t[.a]-n[)e]t´
Cervantes s[~e]r-v[)a]n´t[=e]z
Cid s[)i]d
Cordoba kôr´d[+o]-vä
Damascene d[)a]m´[.a]-s[=e]n
Damascus d[.a]-m[)a]s´k[)u]s
Don Quixote d[+o]n-k[+e]-h[=o]´t[+a]
El Escorial [)e]l [)e]s-k[=o]´r[)i]-[)a]l
Fiesta fy[)e]s´tä
Granada gr[.a]-nä´d[.a]
Guadalquivir gwä´d[)a]l-kw[)i]v´[~e]r
Jerez h[+a]-r[=a]th´
Juan hwän
Montserrat m[)o]nt´s[)e]-r[)a]t´
Mosque m[)o]sk
Murillo m[+u]-r[)i]l´[=o]
Odyssey [)o]d´[)i]-s[)i]
Prado prä´d[=o]
Pyrenees p[)i]r´[+e] n[=e]z
Rodrigo de Bivar r[+o]-dr[=e]´g[=o] de be-vär´
Salamanca s[)a]l´[.a]-m[)a]ng´k[.a]
Segovia s[+a]-g[=o]´vyä
Señor s[=a]-ny[=o]r´
Señorita s[=a]´ny[=o]-r[=e]´tä
Seville s[+e]-v[)i]l´
Tagus t[=a]´g[)u]s
Toreador t[)o]r´[+e]-[.a]-dôr´
Torero t[+o]-r[=a]´r[=o]
Tormes tôr´m[=a]s
Torre del Oro tôr´r[+a] d[)e]l-[=o]´r[=o]
Valencia v[.a]-l[)e]n´sh[)i]-[.a]
Valladolid väl´yä-th[+o]-l[=e]th´
Visigoth v[)i]z´[)i]-g[)o]th
Transcriber's Notes:
1. Passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_.
2. The list of illustrations with their page numbers have been added
after the table of contents.
3. Images have been moved from the middle of a paragraph to the closest
paragraph break.
4. In this etext, a letter with a diacritical mark is enclosed within
square brackets. For example, diacritical marks for letter 'e' are shown
below:
[)e] represents 'letter e with breve above'
[=e] 'letter e with macron above'
[+e] 'letter e with up tack above'
[~e] 'letter e with tilde above'
Similar representation is used for vowels other than 'e'. The following
two also appear within this etext:
[.a] represents 'letter a with dot above'
[=oo] 'letters oo with combined macron above'
End of Project Gutenberg's The Little Spanish Dancer, by Madeline Brandeis