Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1914-09-04

into a room. throwing open the outer
doors and shutters TO let them see the
view from the window.
Here is a little balcony" he said.
stepping outside. where you a sit
and look down on the plaza. We have
the band and music when the weather
is fine, and you can watch the pretty
girls from here. But you have been in
Mexico-you know all that" And he
gave Phil a roguish dig.
"B!en, my frien', am glad to meet
YOU" He held out his hand In vel
come and De Lancey gave his in re-
turn. MY name" he continued. is
Juan de Dios Brachamonte y Escalon;
but with these Americans that does
not go, as you say, so in general they
call me Don Juan.
There is something about that
name do not know-that makes the
college boys laugh. Perhaps 1t is that
poet, Byron, who wrote so scandalous-
ly about ue Spaniards, but certainly
he knew nothing of our language, for
he rhymes Don Juan with new one and
true one!' Still, | read part of that
poem and it is, in places, very interest
ing-yes, very interesting-but Don
Joo-an! Hail"
He threw up his hand In despair and
De Lancey broke into a jollying laugh.
We'll, Don Juan" he cried, I'm glad
to meet you. My name is Philip De
Lancey and my pardner here Is Mr.
Hooker. Shake hands with him, Don
Juan de Dios! But certainly a man SD
devoutly named could never descend
to reading much of Don Joo-an!"
"Ah, no." protested Don Juan, roll
ing his dark eyes and smiling rakishly,
mot moch-only the most interesting
passages!"
He saluted and disappeared In a roar
of laughter, and De Lancey 1urned
triumphantly on his companion. a self
satisfied smile upon his lips.
Aha" he said; you see? That's
what five dollars worth OF booze will
do in opening up the way. Here's our
old friend Don Juan willing, nay, anx-
ious, to help us all he can-he sees I'm
a live wire and wants to keep me
around. Pretty soon we'll get him
feeling good and he'll tell US all he
knows. Don't you never try to make
me sign the pledge again, brother
a few shots just gets my intellect
to working right and I'm crafty as
a fox.
Did you notice that coup l made
asking him II he was a Spaniard?
There's nothing in the world makes a
Spaniard so mad as to take him for a
Mexican--on the other hand, nothing
makes him your friend for life like
recognizing him for a blue-blooded
Castilian. Now maybe our old friend
Den Juan has got a few drops of Moor
ish blood in his veins-to put 1t pO-
litely. but" he raised his tenor voice
and improvised-
Jest because my hair is curly
bats no reason to call me 'shine!'"
NO" agreed Bud, feeling cautiously
Of the walls, land jest because you're
happy is no reason for singing SO
loud, neither. These here partitions
are made of inch boards, covered with
paper-do you get that? Well, then
considering who's probably listening
it strikes me that Mr.. Brachamonte is
the real thing in Spanish gentleman
and I've heard that oil genuwine Span
iards have their hair curly, jest like
%a-huh?"
But De Lancey, made suddenly
aware of his indiscretion, was making
all kinds Of exaggerated signs for 81
lence, and Bud stopped with a slow
~good-natured smile.
"S-s-st!" Kissed De Lancey, touching
his finger to his lips; don't say it
somebody might hear you!"
"All right" agreed Bud; and don
you say 1t, either. | hate to knock
Phil" he added, but sometimes
think the old man was right when b
said you talk too much"
"Psst!" chided De Lancey, shakin
his finger like a Mexican. Tiptoein
softly over to Bud, he whispered in hi
; ear: "S-s-st, | can hear the Teller |
!, the next demonstrating himsSqf!"
! Laughing heartily at this joke, the
went down stairs for supper.