Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1930-05-10

Going to turn on the radio" the
girl thought. why does he do it? 1t
spoils everything"
Again she had evidence of the fact
that, whether she wanted to or not. she
was destined to tune in with this mans
peculiar personality. Not the radio.
senorita, nor yet the victrola," he said
gently. Il prefer the music of my peo-
pie"
From behind the climbing passion
vines on the gallery across the patio a
guitar was strummed. Roberta heard
the mellow notes of harp as unseen
fingers ran the scale. Then a girls
voice-without much volume, but Won
drously sweet and sympathetic-com-
menced to sing La Golondrina."
When 1 am unhappy" Don Jaime
explained, they sing that sad song to
me and make me unhappier."
why don't you have them sing
something joyful? They will sing what
ever you desire, I take it,
MY dear Miss Antrim, no Higgins
ever wants to be made happy when he's
unhappy, It's like enjoying poor health.
We must feed our racial melancholy"
You lncorrigible Celt! Are these
professional entertainers brought out
from Los Algodones?"
NO. They're part of the ranch
assets. That harp has been in our
family since the first higgins emigrated
to Madrid. Carmen Caraveo, my rid
ing boss daughter, yearned to play it,
so / sent her to Ell Paso for six months
to get the hang of it, After that she
had to figure it out for herself. Shed
never do for the Metropolitan Opera, of
course, but she's pretty good for this
corner of Texas. When she has finished
singing La Golondrina' to her own ac-
compartment her sister Conchita will
strum wicked guitar and sing Ell
Cielo.' Hello, bub, you getting sleepy?
Tired after your long ride today, Ell?
told you So"
Robbie had left his chair and climbed
up into Don james lap; his thin little
arm was around the brown, powerful
neck, his head cuddled under the big
square chin. Don Jaime held him close
with his left arm, and Roberta noticed
that with his right hand he gently mas
saged the atrophied muscles of the boys
left leg.
The purple shadows crept over the
patio, the music Sobbed and mourned
behind the passion vines, and the sad
dle-colored maid came out with some
meat scraps on a plate and set them
on the table beside her master who
whistled shrilly; whereupon two English
settlers crashed the screen door leading
to the gallery and came leaping to ac-
cept in the polite manner of their
breed, the meat scraps Don Jaime fed
them, retiring when the meal was I'm
ished to discreet distance, where they
sat and gazed at the master with love
in their lambent brown eyes.
Presently Don Jaime shook Robbie
gently Come, son." he said softly
Say your prayers-in Spanish, as
have taught you. NueStro padre"
The sleepy voice spoke haltingly the
unfamiliar words, the man prompting
from time to time. When the prayer
was finished, he rose and, with the boy
in his arms, stopped over Mrs. Candy
that she might kiss her son goodnight
Then he passed around the table to Ro-
berta's chair. Innocence and helpless
ness" Roberta heard him murmur.
who could not love It'll" He stopped
over her and lowered the boy until the
childish lips brushed her cheek. Then
he bore the lad off to bed.
The two women exchanged glanceS:
he mothers eyes were moist. THAT is
the Latin in him, Miss Antrim. He's
not ashamed to demonstrate his affec-
ton. What pity he hasn't q son of