Santa Fe new Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1898-1951, 1898-03-17

ing much trouble and many expenses, OF
a verify, it was of no Importance.
Dolores loved the "whitc senor." When
Indian and Spanish women love, they do
it with heart, soul and body, and it is pos
siblc thai she might have gone to Sayitz
even without the assurance from Ito
Joaquin that it was a marriage in YER
ity.'' Quien sabe, however; Dolores was a
good girl and said her prayers every night
and every morning.
Men are, after all, not wholly without
heart and conscience; even to some of
them memory remains for feeble pricking
now and then. In the long after years
the recollection of this one year in the lit
tie Mexican mining camp when Dolores
was with him was the one thing that
marred the peace and content of Sayitz's
life.
Like many Mexican Spanish Indian
girls, Dolores was a strange and most
sweet mixture-without doubt a baby in
mind. Innocent, trusting, the thought of
the outside world, other men, other wom-
en-, other things, came never to her. Sa-
| vitz was her idol. the one thing in life. To
make him comfortable and happy, with
the house always clean and sweet, per-
fumed with the "Aowers Of San juan
and the hundreds of big purple yiolets that
swarmed all over the garden to be always
| at his beck and call, for him alone, were to
her life. With all the passion of the Span
lard and the steadfastness of the Indian
she loved this man. 10 think of his death
was the one trouble and sadness of her
life. In her girdle she wore u tiny dagger
always. To Savitz she never explained,
but long ago she had resolved that when
he died, if it was before her, this dagger
would help her soon to join him, the
eight of her soul"
For SavitZ 1t was at first an amusement
and a source of some comfort, for Dolores
was sweet and faithful, and she worshiped
him with heart and soul, which at first be
liked. Later 1t bored him, and he began
to tire of velvety black eyes and Castilian
love songs and black hair with red roses
In It. And day by day longings grew
stronger in him for the fair sweet face
and the gray English eyes and the woman
who could understand. A doll, a play
thing, was good for a time, but for ones
life companion one needs a woman. So that
when a letter oame from the London Min
ing and Concentrating company, limited,
one day, with news of the long expected
rise" Savitz first kissed the picture of
his English sweetheart and then thanked
God, and then began to prepare for a hasty
trip home to get his bride-the directors
permitted it.
As for Dolores, understanding that her
lord was going away to his TERRA for three
years, but would surely return to her after
that, she could only be brave and helpful,
with her W tiny, trembling hands pack
ing his clothes and forcing herself to smile
now and then. Her querido must not see
her triste. 1t would grieve him. She must
hold up until he had gone. After that she
could cry her soul out. He would not
know.
She was to go home to the coast, said
Savitz, and live there, where he would
come for her afterward. Tic joaquin, no!
For the tic was "a drunken man and a
beast, and Dolores must not even see him.
No, she must be good and brave and q
comfort to him, as she always had been,
and go back to the coast home. And here
was money. 1t wal enough for her whole
lifetime.
The leave taking was over. Savitz gal
loped off down the trail, with the kisses of
n woman fresh on his face, to marry and
bring back IN her place the woman from
over the seas.
Dolores watched until his form could no
longer be seen. Then she barred herself
into the bedroom and knelt there for hours
alone, praying to the Virgin. But there
are times when the Virgin doesn't help.
Dolores didn't know it, however. That
same afternoon. she departed for the coast
home.
Twice had the snow tree bloomed out
in spotless white, and twice had the time
Of the yiolets come and gone after the de-
parture of Dolores. The casita where the
Indian girl had once been mistress was
now covered with vines and lovely English
creepers that grew and fourished in the
sweet mountain air, when one warm, per-
feet moonlight night a slender figure,
wrapped in rebozo and tapalo, toiled slow
ly and YEARLY along the trail. A portero's
house had been built some time before at
the hacienda wall, and to get in you had
first to arouse and speak to the portero,
who was an Indian.
He knew the woman Dolores, and
while he vaguely answered her questions
and heard her sob out that no matter #
cher lord" was far over the seas she must
at least see his house and the place where
he used to sit and his hammock in which
she had often swung him the man was
wondering in what n he could break
1t to her. pues, it was an ugly thing!
Desperate, he begged her to ZONE quietly
after him and first peep through the win
dow.
Somewhat disturbed, though not know
ing why, Dolores orept on after the Indian
until they reached the long window that
opened from the patio on to the sitting
room. With heart beating, she gazed
eagerly in. Was it possible that he could
have returned?
In his great chair Savitz lounged, and,
nestled up against Its arm, knelt q fair
woman with sweet, grave face and deep
eyes. Her head was against his shoulder,
and together they were studying out some
plan for the mill w~orkmen-the I'M
who could understand!
Pedro the Indian turned his face away,
but there wal nothing to see or hear. A
woman's heart can break quietly and Of
ten does. In q moment Dolores thanked
her guide and turned softly away. Pedro
knew better than to follow her, being also
an Indian. He merely gazed after her
with a plying shake Of the head as she
toiled along the path to the trail and then
passed out of sight OF the mountain side. |
Cunningham in Argonaut.
Bound to BE Modest.
"If a girl wears a bicycle skirt that
nov,os xuith{u txvo inChoa of tho tora ~ har |