The Bozeman courier., 1927-12-23
Old @
Ia fl San ErancisCoS
nS7S9 !" A-"- - ~
Copyright. 1881. Warner Bros Fsc4uron Inc.
Dolsrss Costello "oLp SAN FRANCISCO" arnsr Bssa
mlmmrlxaal@m as aha mawai
~ ALLIE LONE MILES


SPASA0OAs AHC AaAAu was SJA1 I0SFes3
to be sure. But what land! Over
run with scrubby growth, unculti-
waited, wild, it lay, tragic and silent /
monument of the past.
His wandering glance finally took
in the famous old ranch house. That |
too was but symbol of the decay |
that had been going on for more |
years than he liked to remember. The !
walls were cracked and half covered |
with moss. Here and there huge
gaps showed in the masonry. and
over it all the vines had run riot:
around it the shrubbery had grown
wild.
He walked slowly toward the house
with shrug of his aristOcratic shoul-
ders. What was to be must be! He
was living in the present but not of
1T. AS he neared the patio his ex-
preston suddenly changed into one
of enthusiasm and anticipation. Here
at least was something that pleased
him nightly.
The clinking of castinets, beautiful
ly timed to the soft drumming of a
guitar, reached his ear. His eyes
sparkled brightly and he leaned
against the doorway watching the
delightful scene that brought back a
breath of the picturesque past.
Dolores VasqueZ, the granddaugh-
ter OF the rancho, was dancing. Her
long full skirts cleared the flags of
the patio and revealed daintily shod
feet as she whirled. Her lovely head
held proud and high nodded to the
music's rhythm. Her beautiful eyes
flashed merrily and her lips parted
to smile at the faithful old peon who
accompanied her on the guitar.
LOunging lazily on a rustic bench,
gazing at Dolores through half closed
eyes as he puffed carelessly on a
cigarette. sat Don Luis, her very ar
dent admirer. Don Luis Costanso
was twentieth century caballero
dressed in the height of fashion, but
nevertheless adhering as closely as
possible to his ancestral influence.
He sported a small, trinity waxed
moustache which seemed a fitting
climax to his high heeled boots, elab-
crate silk scarf and broad brimmed
hat. Altogether he was exceedingly
good to lcOk upOn-according to Don
4 Luis.
"Why do you not smile at me,
i Dolores 2" he objected as she con-
tinued to fling her entrancing smiles
over her shoulder to the old peon who
beamed on her with alteration as he
strummed a gay Spanish air.
Dolores did not answer at once. but
continued dancing toward her grand
father, whom she had just noticed in
the 90 wa.
As old uorno,,5o, ,,,o4oLoI Al
chs -. picture his heart sWelled
with pride. Here was a Vasguez
who was the fairest of them all. And
as fer Don Luis-well, was he not
! the son of an old friend and fitting
mate for his beloved Dolores? =? But
then she had way with her and even
his experienced eyes could not de-
termine anything but friendship for
| Don Luis in the actions of his grand
daughter; he wanted to see love.
It was not always so. In his
younger days the senoritas did not
behave so calmly in the presence of
suitor. And once. again his thoughts
carried him back into the past. Back
to the time when the very same patio
echoed to the shouts and laughter of
a dozen senOritas and as many dash
ing young Spaniards-some of them
dancing as his own DOlores-others
on the balcony singing and applaud
ing.
All! but it was hard to grow old
in poverty.
AS Dolores finished the dance she
blew a kiss from her dainty finger.
tips and made deep courtesy before
him. Then as he continued to smile
sadly she laid her hand consolingly
on his arm and said, "Don't worry
dear-some day we shall live agar
in the glory that has gone"
! Vasquez shook his head sadly
: mo, my dear, the past is gone anC
the glory and fame of the Vasque,
have gone with it."
: She looked at him pityingly for
moment, then her face brighteneC
with happy idea. Laughing gaily
: she pirouetted before him, saying
! "See! l shall always dance and max
! you think of the great fiesta you low
! to speak of-when you first met m,
: grandmother" Wrapping her man
! tilla about her, she began an oil
!. fashioned Spanish dance.
3 ITO be continued.)
IL Polson-Work being rushed on ne,