The herald., 1896-04-12
lear at hand. he leaped out, bidding the


with him in the afternoon. Whereat there
was a horizontal glimmer Of white teeth
through the coal dust A final wall from the
engine. and Carlos was left to make his way
to his stone heap.
A friendly hedge casts a shadow over the
scene of his labor, and there in the warm
sand he stretches himself with complete
content.
He had come from far, and rest is but
his due; presently the sun will be at noon,
when he can sleep with clear conscience
till then he Will only rest Soon there plods
along the road a sun-tanned. barelegged,
sturdy urchin.
"Hoa, Rico. my soul, come thou beside
me and talk: it is dull working by oneself,
even in the cool of the morning" In five
minutes Rico. he hardly knows how. is
busy breaking Carlos stones. while the rat
tie of the merry voice goes on untiringly.
For full an hour Rico labors; he thinks
Carlos the finest man on the island. Is his
tongue not ever ready, and has he not every
ones good word? To sit beside Carlos and
break stones is not work-it is play.
THAT one, my apple" says Carlos; that
round checked one, round like melon. All,
the good thing a melon is! What an arm
thou hast; some day thou wilt be able to
work almost like Carlos" And Rico
flushes with happiness. crimson brown I'M
der the dust. Is not Carlos his ideal? \,
But all Joy is ehort-lived. and Rico re-
gretfully betakes himself to the dusty road
again, cheered on by Carlos. "Adios. my
soul; thou hast learned something to-day. l
think, with thy friend Carlos.'
The shadows draw to their shortest and
Carlos spreads the gay handkerchief before
him. serene in spirit that the forenoon has
not been wasted, for Rico has wrought with
all the vigor of youth and enthusiasm. With
but little more added to the heap Carlos
might rest content; sufficient unto the day
was the labor thereof
The rye bread and sweet flalf-dried figs
taste pleasant to the hungry palate, and
that draught Of thin red wine tickles CRATE
fully down the dusty throat.
Carlos is connoisseur OF wine, and re-
members with happy regret the fiagon Of
yesterdays fiesta. All butt Was good I;
white wine. too, and white wine was a rare
treat. BY all the saints. but this tasted thin
after it. Never hele:s, he squeezed the last
drop out of the small skin, and sorrowfully
shook his head at it's limp proportions. 81
Then be frightened up. Thou hast Ia
bored enough for this day, my lamb. he
said, aloud. Talk he must, he Was such an
exuberant soui-to himself. If to no one
else. Take thou thy siesta. and presently
we will see if Father Leon has not drop
OK good sound wine for that mother of
thine; she needs it at her old age-alas! that
Sne Will never IOucu tHe BUOu LLluSS
Having eaten to the full, and cheered by
the brilliancy of his idea. Carlos stretched
his limbs in the shade with the comfortable
consciousness Of having earned much
needed rest
How soft the warm, dry sand was-how It
heaped itself about him as he thrust out his
legs. How good life was. even Giuseppi
wasn't bad fellow take him rightly; and
in five minutes Carlos in luxurious self,
contentment was fast asleep.
An hour, and the sun had stolen through
the hedge into his eyes, and with a brisk,
"Hola. Carlos, my man. waken thou!" he
sat up, folded the gay handkerchief which
had been spread under his head, and strap
ping the shrunk wine-skin round his waist,
set off across the sand. swinging his ham,
mer. whistling as he went, blither than any
canary.
Beyond the narrow strip of sand an arid
sharp rigid hill stretches it's length behind
the town. From the reservoirs hid away In
the upper valleys steal down slender pre-
cious streams. and wheresoever they wan
der there is life and luxuriance. Banana
groves, fields of cacti. gaunt struggling fig
trees, and here and there date palm, all
wakened into life by the kiss Of the stream.
In the dip of one Of these groves lives
Father Leon, withered like a pippin; but
the lines of his face crumple up into
laugh, as Carlos, cap in hand. looks in at
the ever open door.
1.-The sunshine is in thee, Carlos; come
thou in and warm us with thy looks"
Whereat Carlos laughs and strokes his
shrunken wine-skin, thinking how plump it
will be presently.
Father Leon is plainly in high good hum
or, and Carlos is right.
"Ah, the good woman" says Father
Leon; "the sap grows thin in the dried
boughs, but this wine will warm her heart
and Tighten the burden Of the years; five
years old come next vintage" and Father
Leon fills to bloated fullness the all too
tiny wineskin--why were the mountain
goats so small a breed fills 1t to over
lowing. Carlos eyes dance merrily, and he
gently licks his lips as the red drops splash
upon his fingers; rich red rubies, the very
blood OF the grape, not that sour purple
Piquette. no in faith-ah, the good wine.
The grimy driver of the downward train
looks in vain for Carlos that afternoon.
The shade of the hill tempts him, and the
town is but mile away now; so he strolls
leisurely along in the mellow afternoon,
now and then stroking in friendly fashion
the fate wine-skin lying under his shirt.
There is the usual stir about the plaza, yet
it looks deserted and dull after yesterday S
busy crowd. So Carlos pushes his way UP
the narrow cobble paved streets and out
into the country, thinking that a returning
market cart is sure to pick him up before
long. Out over the dusty. winding road
and up the weary hill. "Ah, beast of hill!'
says Carlos stamping sharp disapproval in
the dust as he halts at the Up.
The sun is far to the west, and the even
ing is the perfection of cool languor; but
Carlos is in an evil temper, and not all that
wide vision of sunlit sea, beating itself to
foam on the hard sands, can WOO him to
good humor
What a fool thou art, trampng the dust
like a mule. when thou mfghtest have sat
in the cool of the plaza till the coach start
ed, and then have set the echo flying with
that new. big. silver trumpet of Taddeo's-
a fool. Carlos. competent fool; but sit
self, and the saints forgive thy folly; they
know thou hast toiled enough"
1t is curiously comfortable under the
hedge with the back against the dry grass
and the crickets and the grasshoppers
browsing in the ears.
But that wine-skn is heavy, and Carlos
slips his hand into his shirt and draws 1t
out.
His eyes flash a gleeful look and his lips
part from the white teeth. Slowly the
string is untied--ah how good It fastest
Worthy Father Leon!--five years old come
next vintage What a pity, what a sore
>ood wine, And the skin Is but poor
weak flaccid thing when Carlos ties up it's
mouth and thrusts it back where it had
lain
What beautiful world 1t Is, and he must
tell Marinsha how he climbed the hill, and
is not lazy fellow at all-lazy fellow, in
deed! and such a dusty walk home. But
he would rest now.
50; down full length; that was better;