The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1889-05-01
CHIQUIRIQUITA.

Nv name is Chiquiriquita. My home is
in Arizona, near the borders of Mexico.
NV father is an officer in the United
States Army.
When I was tiny girl without name,
Sonora Martinez, an aged Spanish woman,
came to see me. 1 opened my black
eyes and smiled upon her. She MUIR
INJURED "Chiquiriquita," which is the
fourth diminuitive of chico, small, and
means very, very small. My mother
called me Chiquiriquita, then my father
adopted the name. Then the garrison
people followed their example, and finally
I was baptized Chiquiriquita Belmont.
There were only two Americans ex-
cept my father and mother whom cared
for. One was old General Ames. had
known him always. He taught me to
sketch and read Spanish and German.
He often reproved me for wasting my
time.
II am only little Spanish girl" I
told him, land love to swing in my ham,
mock, and play on my guitar, and sketch
dark faced children"
The other American I cared for was
DR.. Warner, the Surgeon OF my fathers
regiment. l also liked the army mules,
particularly Jack and Juanita, two
gigantic ones. I was fond of John, my
pet ostrich, who followed me about
everywhere. He was head taller than
I. His feathers were lovely, gray and
brown. Michael, my fathers servant,
put up hammock for me under some
shade trees near the house, and one be-
side it for John, and we swung and slept
in them nearly half the time.
I have spoken Of DR.. Warner. What
the rainbow is to the dark cloud it spans,
what the fountain is to the desert wan
derer, what the moon and stars are to
the midnight sky, that he became to me.
To him-I was only his Colorcl's little
daughter.
One morning I was idly swinging in
my hammock, dreaming, when l heard
the sound of q horses hoofs, and Edith
Ames, her beautiful face looking to me
like the picture of st. Cecilia in the old
church, rode by, accompanied by DIR.
Warner. She was a granddaughter Of
General Ames, of the fort, and had come
to spend the winter in our Southern land
with her grandfather.
felt as though the air grew cold. l
threw my arms around John, who was
asleep in his hammock beside me, and
pulled his feathers so harshly that one
soft gray one fell to the ground from my
hand.
That afternoon my mother was to give
q grand dinner party in honor of. some
guests at the garrison. When | was a
child I had fed from these grand enter
tainments attended with much ceremony,
and visited some of my Mexican friends;
but now I enjoyed them, for was sure
to be taken in to dinner by my friend,
DR.. Warner.
That afternoon Inez, my mothers
maid, dressed me with unusual care. 1
fancied I looked my best in creamy
white dress with cloth of gold roses, my
favorite flowers for decoration. 1 had
almost forgotten my anguish of the morn
ing.
The guests gathered, and as I went
about from group to group, fancicd that
the blue gray eyes of DR.. Warner followed
me with appreciation. l was looking
forward to the dinner hour, expecting to
enjoy my usual pleasant chat with him.
Sans black face seemed that of an angel
messenger as he announced dinner. The
guests followed my mother to the dining
room. Dr. Warner crossed the long par
1or and offered his arm to Miss Ames. l
watched them until they disappeared, then
I quietly left the room.
No one noticed me. Ialmost flew over
the burning sand. Blue above me was
the sky-blue as the eyes l so loved.
Cloudless and pitilcss shone the sun upon
me. Life looked long and limitless as the
great desert so near me at that moment,
and Just as desolate.
No one cared for Chiquiriquita!
On, on, went, so wretchcd and mis-
erable that even a moment S rest seemed
impossible, toward the GEAR olu cnulcn
As I grew near, to my excited fancy its
gray walls seemed like a heavenly city.
could almost hear the three great iron
bells in the ovcrhanging roof, silent fol
over fifty years, ring out clear and soft
for the fair Castilian bride of 200 years
ago, then chant, deep and low, a requiem
for the sanity dead.
pushed open the huge door, entered
the silent church, and threw myself dowr
before the picture Of the Madonna. NJ.
ewes rested on the face of St. Cecilia, he,
golden hair floating about her, her beau
tiful hands sweeping a harp, her eye
turned heavenward. Then I cried out:
"Oh, Edith Ames, why did You come
Twas so happy. Why3 Whys"
"Why2 Whyi' came back to m
f,or. 4bo div, ftare