Montpelier examiner. [volume] (Montpelier, Idaho) 1895-1937, 1906-07-20
IN A MEXICAN
GARDEN
BY RUTH RAEBURN
Copyright. by Joseph B. Bowles.)

The bright sunshine streaming into
her bedroom by the open French win
dow wakened Cecilia, or, as her father
loved to call her in the graceful Ian
guage of his adopted country, my
pretty one"
Evidently her thoughts were pleas
ant, for she got up with smile on
her lips and stood for few moments
looking out on the view before begin
ming to dress. 1t was just six o'clock
and the mist still hung in the valley,
ana already the garden was blaze of
light. The scent of the roses, the
orange and lemon blossom, the moist
earth and the myriad growing things,
| nlled the air with a delicious fra
GRANGE. One breathed life and happi-
ness on such morning, and love for
all that lives in this glorious, beauti-
rui world. Besides, was not her old
friend and playfellow, Philip King,
coming home after being away for
seven years in the States, learning to
be doctor?
Cecilia was an only child. Her
mother died when the poor little mite
was only three days old, and her father
never married again, but gave his
small daughter into the keeping OF
k1nd-hearted Mexican woman, who had
from that moment spoiled her charge
with the utmost fidelity, and now, at
the age of 10 years, the tall, handsome
girl was still old Concha's favorite
The two families were near neigh
ho1
the beginning, so it was no wonder
that she and Philip should be con-
stantly together, running about and
playing at hide and seek in the
woods round the ranch, and when
they were older cantering over the
pasture lands on their sure-footed
Mexican ponies-and no wonder either,
as time went on, that the folks should
nod their heads and smile knowingly,
as they watched the pair, pretty lit
Tie girl OF IL and a handsome lad of
Id. In their imagination these good
people already heard the bells ring
for the betrothal.
Not much time was wasted over the
toilet this morning. The-e was great
deal to be done before eight O'Clock
breakfast. First, the asparagus had to
pc cut, while the sun was still low in
the sky, for later on when he had at
tanned his full strength it was insult
ferably hot in the garden, and only the
dark-skinned natives might work there
with impunity. Then she would pick
some ripe, juicy peaches for dessert.
Her rather loved asparagus and peach
es, and SO did Philip, If her memory
did not deceive her-but seven years
Is long time and tastes may change.
Who knows IL he is still fond of
peaches!" and-she looked in the glass
and smiled at her own reflection-"I
think I can answer for peaches" Her
thoughts ran on questioning and re-
plying to themselves. "but as to as
paragus and, and-other things-who
knows?" Kt83
On chair by her bedside Guadalupe.
her maid, had placed a clean muslin
frock, starched and white as snow,
She fingered it lovingly, for she was
going to put 1t on after her work was
done. In the meantime blue cotton.
more than ready for the washtub.
''O0 oO WY WCli, anu, HAVING
reached this stage in her proceedings.
she did not stop to twist up her hair.
but merely braiding it In two thick
plaits, Mexican fashion, seized her SOM
brero and ran downstairs. At the
kitchen door Concha was waiting with
a basket and long knife with teeth like
saw st one end; this was used to cut
the asparagus.
The dew drops on the featherv
branches of the asparagus vines spar
killed. like diamonds in the sunshine and
fell on her in showers as she brushed
them aside to look for the white heads
appearing above ground at their roots. |
By the time she had cut sufficient for
generous dish an hour had already
gone by and she was very warm and
decidedly muddy-but what did that
matter? There was soap and water In
the house, and a pretty clean white |
dress In her room waiting to be put |
on. The peaches could be picked in |
few minutes, and then her mornings |
Work would be done.
How beautiful 1t was that morning! |
From her perch among the peaches |
she gazed fascinated on the scene be- |
fore her Orizaba, glory of mountains.
with its snow-capped peak, seemed but |
step from the garden, but in reality |
one would have to travel more than |
40 miles tc reach the foot of 1t. On |
all sides were the hills as far as the |
eye could see, and right in front. only
about mile away, nestled the little
town with its whitewashed houses and
brown tiled roofs. half buried in trees.
Absorbed in the view she did not see
horseman who was maneuvering his
way in and out the winding pathway
which led to her fathers ranch. and
30 1t happened that Philip King was
almost unnn her hafora che ,rro.. go |