Los Angeles herald., 1910-09-04

were pale Below silken Golf fell
her dark glossy hair and the exquisite juvenile bosom
was half revealed where the yellow vest was parted.
All! Pierre Pomerio this ravishing KadJa-
daughter of Emirl the instant he entered And
his eyes fastened on her like the eyes OF madman,
flashing out blue sparks under the commonplace
lamplight. He sat half bent bareheaded, with his
hands his knees staring at this beauty with his
steady shining gaze From head to foot, from the
thick black hair to the tiny red-spangled slippers the
lad devoured Kadia with his eyes, until she noticed
him amid the throng and slowly turned her shapely,
disdainful head in his direction
Oil but she lovely, lovely as a dream, lovely
as the fairy of Saint Cast with her garland of sea
weed. Pierre felt his head turning but remembered
Yam IS warning: You must never presume to touch
a fairy, for they are not tame, you know"
The man who had invited the people in now entered
the little theatre, and, with his piping voice, an
nounced that the performance would begin.
''Aieha, ladies and gentlemen, the noble Algerian
Lady Acha will first show you the Tunis steps, after
which the handsome Ali will perform the great dance
of the Kabyes of Zaatcha, and then Mile Kadja;
the daughter of the Emir, will charm you by her
graceful performance of the dance of the Ameis of
Tangier!'
Everybody was staring at the pretty Kadja while
the impresario was talking, and they continued to
gaze at her WHILE to the wheeling sound of the worn
out piano, the "nobe Aicha - twisted herself about
like very heavy elephant grunting the while a gut
tural ncantation and dandling her venerable head
from side to side. Some of the tourists from Dinard
and Parame, who had dropped in there by chance,
highly amused, and the old woman glared at
them with wrinkled, faded eyes, which had, doubtless,
been fne
''Now for the handsome Ali Come on, Ali, give
us the dance of the deserti'
Poor Aicha fell back like great bundle her
cushions, and the African writhed, wrggled, rolled
the whites of his eyes and grinned till he looked like
the frightful nightmare of dentist IS sign. The
women of the audience hid their laughter behind
their fans; but Pierre Pomero nothing of Ali s
comical contortions, the annoyance of the i'm
presario and pianist the mocking humor of the
crowd. He nothing but Kadja, pretty Kadja,
whose soft eyes rested on him fxedly, while an
ndulgent smile parted her lips. The simple fellow
felt his heart beating wildly his were filled with
a rushing sound like the thunder of the angry waves
he almost shouted aloud in his excitement, and could
not repress an "Ah!'' which made several people
and look at him. when Kadja in her turn quilted
her cushions and arose, tall slender, delicate as the
stem of a flower, shaking back her unbound hair as
though the weight too great for her.
In her left hand, above her head she held little
tambourine which she occasionally struck with her
right hand, accompanying her slow, graceful move
ments by strange, monotonous chant, Aicha and Ali
marking the rhythm by clapping their hands and cry
ing shrilly: "Kadjal Kadjal Al Kadjal'
Little by little this plaintive air entered into
Pierre's very soul, intense sadness overpowering
him, making him long to weep flee. It seemed to
him that Kadja looked wistfully toward him. that
her eyes full of tears, and that she saying
in this language he did not understand: