Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1896-03-19

Carlos carelessly; land lend me thou Thy
tobacco pouch, for mine is as empty as my
pocket or Giuseppe's head. What a fus:
because girl has good taste" And Car
los settled himself back against the car
head, putting his borrowed cigarette IL
| supreme self-content
He had had his breakfast; the sun warmer
him luxuriously; Matteo's tobacco was full
Favored and soothing; what cared he abou,
Giuseppe and his jeslousies?
SO the blackboard logged on past the to-
oacco factory which crowns the hill above
Las Palmas. and looks so like a periten
ttary or work house; down the hill, pasl
/ the Octroi, and into that street which seems
! the street of the washerwoman.
; On one side, thirty feet down, il the rivers
! bed-a gray line Of dry bones bordered
! fifty Yards deep with a banana plantation
! OH the other side, conduit lined by a string
/ OF women o. all ages, the air full Of a Babe
! Of shrill voices and loud laughter. Here and
! there One With tucked-up petticoats stands
! knee-GeeP il the water struggling with
some obstinate stain, and the butt OF many
suggestions.
i ire Is turned on Carlos and Matteo-
An, the good-for- nothing" say the eld-
ers, the wives and mothers; has Marinsha
/ not centimo left that thou goest to work
/ More fool Marinsha! Giuseppi Molina is
worth two of thee; thou and the wooden
I
| But the younger smiled kindly enough at
! the bright face, with It's shining black eyes
and even white teeth; and If truth must be
told, thought Marinsha had her fair share
! of compensation. AS for Matteo, he was
/ ugly-him they jeered numerically. Both
take the making fire placidly. Carlos, from
a sense of conscious superiority, too serene
to be ruff1ed by such petty warfare; Matteo
because 1t is his due. Nature formed him
to be the target of easy criticism. He Is
slow tongued, and so unfit for such strife.
He therefore whips up the wiry little noun
tain horse, and on they rattle. Past the viii
las, with their cttron and banana groves,
and trailing abundance Of rosy Bougain-
villea, into the narrow cobble-paved street,
and down the final hill to the plaza, where
| the blackboard with a last spasm halts in
| front OF the ugly cathedral.
Here Carlos jumps off with an "Adios
Matteo; good thenks and good luck to thee!"
but the tone suggests that Matteo mas al
ready much to be grateful for
Throwing his hammer and his bundle over
his shoulder, Carlos saunters down the side
street leading to the shore, pausing to de-
voutly cross himself as he passes the wealth
er-beaten, furnished gilt crucifX at the east
end Of the cathedral.
A shrill whistle, sounding fifty yards away
and round the bend of the street hastens
his leisurely pace.
The steam tram is about starting for La
Luz, the port on the isleta; and to miss it
means two miles of walk along a roadway
ankle-deep in sand. True. he has not even
the necessary two pesetas; but, then he
knows the guard, and has a supreme faith
in the powers of his good fellowship. So ne
Chambers up on the rear car with absolute
assurance. A groan, lurch, and on they
go through the narrow Streets the whistle
shrieking like demon thrice possessed as
the cars grind and swerve round the cor
ners. Over the bridge spanning the dried
up bed, and down the long straig ht street
a mile or more along the sea. Carlos is
regretfully rolling Matteos last pinch of
tobacco into a cigarette, the glory of the
day dimmed by the knowledge that it is the
last, when he catches sight Of Giuseppi
Molina scowling at him from the other end
Of the car. Whereat Carlos brgbtens up
and shakes his open hand IN the air in a
friendly way. He knows we'll enough tt ere
is a conflict inevitable, and ne does not shirk
it; time enough then to look sour and saw
age. For the present he would drink with
Giuseppe, smoke with Giuseppi, share mis-
tobacco with him, if he had any, and. when
the time came. thrust his ugly lancet
pointed knife into Gius eppi's hairy throat
''Hola, Giuseppe! Holar' he shouts, "a
lucky day to you; what good fiesta we
had"
But Giuseppe only scowled the more, and
spat vigorously into the cloud of dust flying
alongside; and so Carlos changed his mind,
and borrowed his match from the conductor
of the car .
Presently they stopped to take up pas
senger. and Carlos heap Of stones being
near at hand, he leaped out, bidding the
driver. whom he called the blood Of his
heart, go on like bright boy, and he would
be good to him, and go back to Las Palmas
with him in the afternoon. Whereat there
was 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.
friendly hedge casts a shadow over the
scene of his labor, and there in the warm
sand ne stretches himself with complete
content.
He had come from far, and a rest is but
mis- due; presently the sun will be at noon,
when he can sleep with a clear conscience; !
till then he will only rest. Soon there plods /
along the road sun-tanned. barelegged. !
sturdy urchin.
'Hola 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 g0ci thing melon is! What an arm |
thou hast; some day thou wilt be able to /
work almost like Carlos" And Rico |
fushes with happiness, crimson brown I'M
der the dust Is not Carlos his ideal?
But all Joy is short-lived. and Rico re-
gretfully betakes himself to the dusty road j
again, cheered on by Carlos. 'AdiOs, my
soul; thou hast learned something to-day, l |
think with thy friend Carlosr'
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 vigoT 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 half-dried figs
taste pleasant to the hungry palate and |
that draught of thin red wine tckles CRATE
fully down the dusty throat.
Carlos is a connoisseur Of wine, and re-
members with happy regret the fagon Of
yesterdays tsta. All, but i was good:
white wine, TOO, and white wine Vas rare
treat. By all the saints but this tasted thin
after it. NeverthA less, he squeezed the last
drop out of the small skin. and scrrowfully !
shook his head at its limp proportions
Then he frightened up. Thou hast la
bored enough for tbs day. my lamb" b.
said, aloud. Talk he mus. he was such an
exuberant soul-to himself, il to no one
else. Take thou thy siesta. and presently
We will see if Father Leon has not a drop
Of good sound wine for thai mother Of
thine; she needs it at her old age-alas. that
she will never touch the good things"
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 a muca-
needed rest.
How soft the warm dry sand yas-bov I,