The Brunswick times. [volume] (Brunswick, Ga.) 188?-1900, 1896-05-02
BYWAYS OF SEVILLE.
THUMB NAIL SKETCHES OF A WITTY
AND GRACIOUS PEOPLE.


er Side of Life Is Displayed.
Wandering home through the dark,
winding byways, you pass cloaked fig
ures, whispering at the iron bound WIN
dows. They are the lovers of Seville,
pelando la pava (plucking the turkey,
as they call it. With the lattice slightly
open, the fair Sevillana sits in her dark
ened chamber talking in whispered
tones to the gallant without. The old
folks, weary Of the task of chaperonage,
after locking the daughter in room
barred like prison cell, have gone to
bed, and for hours, sometimes the en-
tire night, the affianced lovers look
through the grating into each others
eyes and whisper the notbings Of love.
1t would seem cold comfort to a north
ern swain, but the Spaniards say the
iron bars are necessary evil there in
Spain. In Spain there are life and color
and picturesqueness everywhere, and
you think the Spaniard was born to be
an artists model.
In the maze of tortuous streets about
the market one sees something of the
life of the people. There the white
washed houses are outlined against the
brilliant sky i'll rambling perspective,
and the graceful tower Of some parish
church, it's brown walls moss grown, its
bright tiles shining, rise sharp and clear
into the blue above. Dark maidens with
glossy hair and warm color in their
cheeks gaze idly from the miradores
above upon the countless people in the
streets below.
The cobbler hammers and stitches in
his smoky little shop without window
or door, glasses click i'll the bodega,
sleek COWS with mournful eyes and
tinkling bells stand silently chewing
their cuds in the milkman's stalls, and
the dainty feet of shaggy donkeys patter
on the cobble stones as the patient lit
straw or charcoal, thread their way
through the crowd. You wander along,
picking your way through the good ma
tured assemblage, until you reach some
little plaza with its church, where beg
gars sun themselves upon the f1agstones,
and the puestos, or booths of the street
peddlers, with graceful, colored avn
ings, are scattered picturesquely about
the pavement. There the dazzling sun
light casts fantastic shadows on the yell
low and blue walls of the houses, null
ticolored pots or festoons of cotton
prints hang in the dingy shops, gallar-
dos-dandies of the street-gossip in
groups or Ogle the passing maidens,
dogs snooze i'll sunny spots and crowds
of idlers cluster about some barrel or
gan or blind guitarist. There is booth
near by where a bronze skinned gypsy
is cooking mOlletes calentitos, sort of
greasy -four cake fried i'll OIL and wine
puesto with its earthen jars, and huge
bottles of red and yellow wine, and
there wages loiter to eat and drink.
One can linger for hours il the streets
of Seville, watching the people and
talking with them, too, for the Anda-
lusian of the lower classes is the best of
fellows. There is democratic freedom
in his manner, at once respectful and
cordial, which is unlike the obsequious-
ness or boOrishness of the common peo-
pie of other countries. He is slow and
even lazy, but he commands respect, and
nowhere can one meet such civility and
heartiness as is shown by the Andalu-
sian peasant. But you must unbend and
meet him half way. He does not like
Saxon stiffness, and a cordial word or
the offer of a cigarette will accomplish
more than a handful of silver.
no MT q IF hn
people where aguardiente is sold at
cent glass, the habitues all greet you
with word of welcome, and the bar
keeper serves his liquor with a courtli-
ness which is Chesterfeldian. They are
rough places, those common taverns.
There is one i'll particular, across the
river in Triana, where the toughs of Sc
ville-the matones, they are called
gather to drink and quarrel. They say
that every Sevillian who is spelling for
a fight goes there, and many are the
cutting affrays in which navajos are
drawn. With mantas wrapped about the
left arm, the duellists crouch and slow
ly follow each other around, watching
the opportunity for the fatal spring,
just itS tuoy UO Ill OdI1u6us 1ulS ldU6Iud
of the DULLES is low, dingy place,
spanned by high beams blackened by
ages of cigarettes and dirt 1t is open to
the street Oh two sides, and supporting
the corner beams is an old Roman col
umn which looks as though it may have
been standing since the time of Trajan.
The floor is of dirt, and in one corner are
a low table and three or four cane seat
ed chairs. There are dirty bottles on the
shelves and coarse prints of bullfghters
on the walls Behind the bar is the
keeper of the resort, low browed ruff
fan, with little weasel eyes, set close
together and a knife slash across his I'M
shaven cheek. He looks prince Of cut
threats, but even he has kindly greet
ing and civil word, as have his Gus
toners who lean upon the bar. But the
honest workman out for holiday with
his best girl or the bourgeois and his
friends picnicking in the enviyons I'M
der the shade of olive trees, are really
more interesting. These true Andalu-
slams will always welcome stranger,
they will always share their sour wine
and sweet cakes, and the bright eyed