River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1901-10-03

viva MexicoI Little horses moved by
steam. The company DESTROYS of pleas
ing the high taste of this exalted com
munity, is disposed to offer its services
together with an instrumental concert
every day. Knowing that we are abb
jectly unworthy of the cOnmendation OF
so enlightened city, we have vet ven.
tured. with humility. to bring forward our
poor abilities Viva Mexico."
Within that circular platform OF
horses was a smaller circle Of canvas
wall, surrounding and hiding the cen.
trail pole and space three yards in
diameter around it. This was the cas-
tomary private chamber-forbiddp
eity-of the owner of the caballitos.
To the ragged boys it was the retreat
of god. Thereto strobe Tomas, and.
casually. big iron tools were taken in
also and concealed
At four o'clock, out from her home.
steps Julia, arrayed in slly-blue, with
her hair waving nobly aud her ewes
like mountain lakes. She takes her
seat in a chair on the movable Plat
form, between two pairs of open
mouthed little horses. She carries a
guitar IN her hand. With that sweet,
calm, mild, reliable repose, which is
the exclusive property of the Mexican
woman of a certain class, she sells
little green tickets at three cents
apiece to the clamoring boys. True.
her calm permits some small scamps
to steal rides for nothing, but that
is neither here nor there.
"Tomas-ah, where is Tomas?" ask
many.
Taking his chocolate" replies She,
sweetly.
The whistle shrieks, the engine gives
puff, and the horses do truly prance,
indeed, go all round, one pair snort
ing after the pair in front, and they
in turn snorting after those before
them, till finally even the first snort
ers are snorted after, and the battered
circuit is completed.
Julia up-talIes her guitar in a fair
hand, and remaining seated on the
circular platform with that mild, re-
liable repose, goes round and round
forever snorted after by incredible
rings of those animals. And as she
goes she touches her guitar with light
fingers, and casts up the mountain
lakes to the canvas of the tent and
sings. Her song is sweet and ringing
clear and full of pathos. Her con-
slant change of place causes the
music to have that wavering, sinking.
and rising uncertain quality so priced
by certain lovers of the art, To be
one moment yonder, and the next
here, makes the voice of Julia like
that of the night wind, which swels
and retires with varying gusts and
fills the soul with sadness. The words
she sang were like these:
"Ah that sweet. fair sonora,
She lived beside the spring,
There stands a blue cross over her
And the breeze goes murmuring:
'Ah. sweet, sweet, fair Senorar"
The movement ceases; other tickets
are sold; other circuits are made, and
the sonora is still mentioned as hav-
ing lived beside the spring. The shades
of night come on and torches are lit.
And Tomas-why, where is he?"
asked many still.
Taking his chocolate" says Julia,
sweetly.
Faith, he takes much and long"
Isl, senior; Tomas was always very
fond of chocolate"
Midnight at last arrives. The crowds
have gone away. Julia, something
of eagerness affecting her repose, de-
seends with guitar in hand, and runs
with swift feet into her home, hair
flying. The torches are out. The
engine is settling down grumblingly
to slumber. The engineer has gone.
The stone-paved space is deserted
She sits in her room, staring at the
door, waiting. The door bursts open;
she springs forward with a cry, to
fall upon Tomas, who comes in with
burden He is toil-worn, earth
stained, with blistered hands. He
locks the door and they sink down
on the floor beside his burden
There are two iron boxes. each
about eight inches square, and locked
with padlocks. She tears at them
with her fair hands and falls palpitat-
ing on Tomas's breast. He takes a
crow-bar, pushes her aside, and
smashes the locks; and it is Julia's
white fingers that throw the lids back.
The lamp-light shows some silver
and gold in little heaps, but not very
much. 1t shows some packages
wrapped in cloth. The silver and gold
coins were hurriedly piled on the
floor. The packages are torn open.
They reveal banllbills and a letter.
Tomas and his wife stare stupidity at
one another, and at the money. They
finger it. The coins and the bills are
unlike Mexican coins and bills. They
do not know what kind they are, or
their value. But there are eagles on
some of them, which, at least, is like
Mexico, and cheering.
Read the letter." she cries, curl
ing up with commissions of emotion in
his lap.
1t was as follows, in bad Spanish:
"Cuernavaea. June ., 1857
This Is a confession to be read by him
who finds this money. ] was born in
North Carolina in 1921 I have lived near
~ all my life in Texas. / Joined Gen.