The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1912-09-07
RURALE OR PEON?
Love Affairs Of a Mexican
Girl.
sY LOUISE PALMER MILLER.


house on low log stool, crocheting.
while Juan lay stretched on the floor
at her feet, first looking into her
pretty face, then watching her small
brown fingers nimbly drawing the
white threads into place by her
crochet needle. He was telling her OF
his visit to the city and OF the bold
advance that the common poems had
made in its capture the year before
under the rising tide that surged
throughout Mexico and submerged the
brave Diaz.
1t was not, however. the signih-
canoe of the war that was holding the
simple mind Of Carmelita. She was
interested In Juan's recital only be-
cause he told of the little city OF
which she had dreamed. but which
she had never seen, although she had
lived, since her birth, but forty miles
from Culiacan The only villages she
had visited were much Ike her own
| She had only heard of Culiacan.
There people lived In brick houses.
| Instead OF couches made of branches
they had beds hung with draperies
and they had rugs on the floor. She
had heard of white Americans build
ing houses with windows Of glass.
Juan. throughout his narration.
man-like. thought Carmelita was In
terested In the heroic deeds and was
! flattered by her attentive mood Sud
denly, in a pause of his recital, she
interposed Juan. wish We were
rich and could live in the city after
we marry. 1t must be fine to ride
In carriages and look into stores with
all their bright clothing. Can't We
move there some day. Juan?"
you would not enjoy life in the
hot city, my sweet" said Juan. The
houses are so closely built that you
would smother for a breath OF air.
You could not watch the brilliant
feathered birds nor see trees and
bushes there. You could not battle
In the cool brook when the hot days
come.
The women Of Culiacan are not
fresh and beautiful as you are. Car
melita. the only roses that blossom on
their cheeks are placed there by the
use of red paint Perhaps we can
visit there at the time of our mar
riage. IL we save little each week
out of our scanty earnings, but to
live there, never! never! never!"
Carmelita did not raise her voice
in protest. but in her heart the old
craving did not die. There was al
ways hope that by some strange
means she could live IN a city where
there were bands Of music and
porch where people gathered to talk
and promenade.
During the short silence between
the two lovers, while Carmelita was
resolving this hope within her mind,
and Juan was comparing Carmelita
favorably with all the other senoritas
he had even seen. their silence was
suddenly broken by the sound of
hoofs on the road. without. old Pc
dro. Carmelita's father. was hating
his burro with that sizzling sound Of
the lips employed by the Mexican bur-
TO drivers.
Juan did not change his position. for
he well knew that he was welcome
guest in the Casa of the old Pedro. as
well as welcome sutton for the hand
of his daughter. The sound OF anoth-
er voice. however. caused him to
glance up curiously. He Immediately
| jumped to his feet with an attitude OF
respect. With old Pedro was a rurale
dressed in all OF the elegance of his
uniform. Welcome. Juan!" exclaim-
ed the father of Carmelita. Come
forward to meet an officer of our coun-
try who has lost his way hereabouts
In the mountains"
The rurale but half-greeted Juan
for he vas looking quite past him with
bold admiration for the girl seated
on a rustic stool with a pile Of GRO
cheting in her hands. He had looked
upon many peon maidens before. but
none so free from the heavy Mexican
features as this girl. He noticed the
unusual fairness of the skin, the slen.
derness of the nose, the delicately-
curved lips and the arch of the small
brown feet. white blood some
where" he silently mused.-
Carmelita's cheeks we're flushed at
his steady gaze. and, while her eyes
were partly dropped, she was not
blind to the strange bearing of this
man before her. He was unlike any
man she had ever seen In her life. He
wore suit of wool with gold buttons.
as she thought. and on his feet were
shining boots instead of sandals. and
over his arm hung cape lined with
bright velvet. She might have re-
ma;ned long In her fancy of whether
this was a dream or a real being. II