The Knoxville independent. [volume] (Knoxville, Tenn.) 1894-current, 1917-01-13

slant and important d part OF tie
daily neWs at present, has many IN
teresting and typical stories based
on legends that haze been Transmits
tel through centuries and are known
in garious forms to the whole popu-
lation, high and lou. Many origi-
mated in Spain, and some of these
haze so Moorish a favor that they
convey an arabian Nights atmos-
pierre. Others spring from the an
cient Mayon and Aztec traditions,
though they haze been so modern
lied By the people that only his
torians can recognize the sources.
LA Llorona," the Wailing Woman,
is one of the latter, and is a most
| popular one.
In the land of Mexico it may chance
that on any night certain strange
and unfortunate thing may befall any,
body, stranger or native, who wanders
In lonely road or a city street. It
may be anywhere-in the City of Mex
leo itself, far norSh in Chihuahua, even
on the American border, or in far
southern Oaxaca. Indeed, it may hap
pen at the same hour in two or more
| of these far-separated places.
This strange thing will occur as fol-
lows:
One will see a woman approaching
swiftly with her face hidden in lace
shawl. "What time is it, senor?" she
will ask with voice oddly strained
and breathless.
When he who Is SO accosted names
the hour there will come from the hid
den face terrible cry. "At this hour
| must be in" and she will name a
place hundreds of leagues away. Then
she will vanish, and through the air
will sound wailing lament of mex
pressible grief and terror: where
shall find my children?"
If he who has been thus accosted
knows his Mexico, he goes home at
once and arranges his affairs; for he
will know that he has met La Llorona,
and he need not be told what is the
fate of those who speak to her.
z In the days of the Golden viceroys,
La Llerona was Luisa, woman of
the people, most beautiful, faithful
and good. If it had not been willed
| otherwise, she should have lived in
simplicity and died in religion and
peace. But she was seen by d noble
and wealthy cavalier, Don Muno de
Monies Claros, whose family was one
of the most powerful in the city.
He was gallant figure, and many
| 0 lovely eye cast stolen but ardent
glances at him when he rode through
the streets on his prancing Arabian.
He chose to stoop to Luisa, and she
gave him all her heart. She consent
ed uncomplainingly to secret mar
riage, and consented humbly that none
should know that she was wife to the
brilliant favorite of the government.
He loved her dearly at first, and for
a long time scarcely could bear to be
away from her. There was no happi-
ness for him so great as that which
he found in their hidden nest, where,
in time, three children, beautiful as
angels, played about them.
Finally, however, a WEAKNESS of hrs
low-born wife assailed the caballero,
and when radiant and noble lady ar
rived from Madrid, his hot heart
turned suddenly from the old love to
a new. Soon all Mexico heard of
great wedding that was to be.
So high was Don Muno's station
that Luisa's neighbors talked of little
else, not dreaming that their quiet,
shy friend knew the famous man. She
heard, but would not believe. Her
true heart chung with all its splendid
loyalty to faith in her beloved. She
did not doubt even when the days
passed and he did not appear. Sic
never faltered until with her. own eyes
she looked through the tall, wide,
golden-grilled windows of his house
one day and saw him and his new
bride throned at their sparkling we'd
ding feast.
She did not go in. There came to
her no thought of confronting them
She stood. quite dumb and frozen,
amid the jostling, ragged, curious
crowd. She saw him drink to his
beautiful wife, who was far, far more
beautiful than she was. She stood
looking till the guests departed and
the lights went out. Then she bowed
her head, hid her face and walked
slowly homeward.
She walked without a sob. Slowly
she entered her house and stared
around as at place of death. Slowly
she went TO the wall where hung
AIuno's own bright dagger She took
IL down and went into the room where
slept the three children.
One lay on its side with it's littlo
iimpled fist pressed to its check. One
lay with its curly head on the breast
of the eldest, whose arms We're firm
around it with that love that Is most
sacred in such sleep of childhood.
Over this group of innocents Tulsa
leaned.
She did not kiss them or weep over
~ h. I. Il =