CHAPTER VI
SPANISH HOSPITALITY
THE great caves which stood each side the little beach to which thegirls often went were remarkable for more than one reason. They servedas bath houses, they were unique in construction and they suggestedtales of folk-lore in which Nan delighted. Through one of thesecaverns, as through an arched passage, one could go to get a betterview of the stretch of sea beyond, while from the rocky hill above astill better view was to be had. The way to the sea was rather rough,and only the younger ones of the household cared to travel it often.Mr. Pinckney declared it was too great an effort for his portly person,and Dona Teresa said it was out of the question for her to attemptit, so often but the three girls, Nan, Mary Lee and Mercedes, wouldfind their way there. They must first pass through one of the windingstreets, or roads, of the little village, then over a stony way leadingpast the small chapel of Nuestra Senora del Henar, in the woods, and onthrough shady paths till the sea was at hand.
A daily dip in the salt water was desirable, however, for Miss Doloreswho was not very strong, and therefore one morning the family wassurprised by the arrival of a stout little donkey and cart which Mr.Pinckney explained he had bought for the use of the family. So in thejouncing, bouncing cart thereafter the four went, the little donkey notseeming to mind the load in the least. Often, nevertheless, Nan or MaryLee would insist upon getting out and walking up-hill to spare MasterNeddy, as they called him. It goes without saying that the lines ofthis special donkey fell in pleasant places when Mr. Pinckney becamehis purchaser.
In spite of the donkey, the girls often preferred to take long walks,sometimes stopping at the house of a peasant to see something quaintand old of which Mercedes had told them.
"Would you like to see an old, a very old loom, and some one weavinglinen?" she asked one day.
"We should be delighted," responded Nan.
"Then we will go. It is not far and perhaps my cousin Dolores wouldlike also to go. The old woman I know well, and she will be pleased towelcome us. The house, too, is old, oh, so old, I do not know how manyyears, hundreds, I think, and I am sure you will like to see it."
So the four started off up the long white _carretera_, passing on theway first a creaking cow-cart loaded with hay, then a _viajante_ inhis wagon lolling back and singing a strange song ending in a weirdnote, next a little shepherdess tending her two sheep which cropped theherbage at the side of the road, then an old woman bending under a massof hay so great that the wizened face and bright eyes could scarcely bediscerned. All these gave a cheerful "_Adios_" or "_Buenas tardes_" asthey passed.
As the girls turned off the _carretera_ and entered a narrow windingroad, Mercedes said, "I want you to see the little chapel of NuestraSenora de Soledad. It is such a quiet little spot where it is. When Iam sad or unhappy I go there, for it seems as if it were nearer heaventhan some other places."
She led the way to where the tiny chapel stood at the meeting of twopaths. Truly "Our Lady of Solitude" could have no more fitting title.The rustling of leaves on the great trees, the murmur of a littlestream, the song of a bird, the occasional creaking of a distantcow-cart were the only sounds heard. The girls stepped up on the smallporch, without which is never a church or chapel in Spain, and lookedin through the iron grating at the unpretentious little figure in hershrine, then they sat down on the porch to rest.
"How still it is," whispered Mary Lee to Miss Dolores. "I wonder howlong the 'Lady of Solitude' has been here."
"Many, many years, no doubt. The chapel is very old, as you see. Manyof these small churches and chapels were demolished, or at least abusedby the French in 1808, but this one has evidently escaped. It ischarming. I think I shall make a sketch of it for my cousin Teresa. Shewill like it, for she has known and loved it always."
They left the little chapel and mounted higher, then making anotherturn they came to an old gray house set in a _patio_. There wasan entrance to the lower floor from below, but a long flight ofcrooked stone steps led up outside to the upper floor. A great treeovershadowed the house; under it some white hens were picking aroundindustriously. Above, in the small windows, were set boxes of pinks andgeraniums--no house so poor but had its _clavel_. Mercedes mounted thecrooked steps, the others waiting below till an answer to the knockshould come. "Manuela is in," Mercedes announced. "Will you come up orwill you wait till she comes down to open the lower door? The loom isbelow."
Miss Dolores decided that they would wait, although Nan and Mary Leewere hoping they could see the inside of the old stone house.
"Perhaps we can go later," whispered Mary Lee to her sister.
Mercedes joined them, saying, "You will find it very dark and dingy,but clean."
Here Manuela opened the door and they stepped into a room whoseblackened rafters were very near their heads. The earthen floor wasbeaten down hard by the tread of those who had gone in and out forcenturies. A tiny window gave the only light, and under this was setthe great unwieldy loom which Manuela started going. The clumsy shuttleclacked noisily as the weaving proceeded. A pile of coarse linen laynear; it was such as the peasants had for household use, and wasliteral homespun. Manuela, though quite overpowered by the sight ofthese strange visitors, was, nevertheless, dignified and gracious, andat Mercedes' suggestion offered to show the rest of the house.
Up through the narrowest of crooked stairs they groped their way tothe kitchen, a dark little place, but clean and orderly. There was nostove in the great fireplace but only a stone platform which the girlsdecided looked like an ancient altar, for it was on the top of this thefire was kindled. In this primitive way all the cooking was done, andso it was in most houses, even in those of the well-to-do. A shiningarray of copper and brass utensils hung near the fireplace, and someold blue and white plates stood a-row on a shelf. In the next roomthere was but little furniture; a bed, a settle, an old chest, a smallmirror, a picture of "Our Lady of Covadonga," a few gaudily coloredprints of various saints. Though the rooms seemed small and dark theywere tidy and Manuela, in her black frock and with black handkerchieftied over her head, was not an inartistic figure in the midst of thesetting. She offered them flowers, a pink _clavel_ and geranium toeach, and they took their leave. As they passed out of the _patio_two women, bent under their loads of hay, came through the gateway todeposit their burdens in the loft back of the kitchen.
"Now," said Mercedes, "if you can stand the walk, I should like to showyou my favorite view. It is a long climb, Cousin Dolores, but Antoniosaid he would meet us with the cart at the foot of the last hill and hewill help you up to the top."
With this prospect Miss Dolores decided to undertake the walk. It was along one, but it was worth the effort to see from the top of the highhill seven villages nestled at the foot of the mountains on one side,and a semicircle of sea on the other.
"I never beheld anything more glorious," cried Nan enthusiastically."We have, of course, some greater and more magnificent scenery on ourPacific coast, but this is unique. To see half the world mountains andhalf sea from the top of a hill not a mile from home is not vouchsafedeverybody."
"I knew you would like," said Mercedes well pleased. "I think there isno finer view in all Asturias."
At the foot of the hill they found Neddy and the cart, and went homejoyously, taking turns in the cart to spare Neddy.
It was rather late when they passed by the _plaza_ in the centre of thevillage, and here they saw that something was going on, for a man wassetting up two poles, and some paraphernalia near by suggested that hehad intentions in other directions.
"A _comedia_!" cried Antonio.
Nan looked at Mercedes questioningly.
"A _comedia_, a little drama on the _plaza_ to-night. We must all cometo it, all of us."
"Is there a tent, or what?"
"It is in the open air. These are strolling players."
Nan marveled, but was very curious and eager to see the performance.Supper was always a late meal, sometimes it was not served before teno'clock,
but there was always a _merienda_, chocolate, tea or coffeeat five, so one did not mind. This evening the meal was hurried alittle so it was over by nine, yet even then the play had not begun,though the performers were drumming up custom, as the roll of the drumproclaimed some time before the party reached the spot. This kept upfor another half an hour, the crowd gathering slowly. But at last aring was formed around the centre of the _plaza_, some brought chairs,others sat on the steps of surrounding houses, some squatted on theground, some stood up. In all the windows and balconies overlooking thespot, spectators were gathered.
The two American girls were perhaps the most eager ones in theaudience, for this was a rare treat to them, and they were curiousenough to see the performance begin. It seemed long delayed, but atlast two men came out and did some acrobatic feats; these were followedby a little play of which Nan and Mary Lee understood very little.Then a small girl and a tiny boy walked a tight rope. Next came a mockbull-fight in which the tiny boy took the part of a _toreador_, andran so precipitately from the pretended bull at each onslaught thathe brought forth shouts of laughter. At last the mock bull amiablypresented himself to be killed and the victorious _toreador_ retiredamid great applause.
"That is the only bull-fight I want to see," whispered Mary Lee toNan. "But I am glad to know how they do it. Nobody was hurt and theyoungster was too funny for words."
The next act on the programme was a pretty dance given by the littlegirl, after which came a second farce in which a donkey appeared, andthen the hat was passed around. Mr. Pinckney declared that a _peseta_apiece was none too much for such a novel performance, and thereupondropped a gold piece into the hat to the surprise and joy of the actors.
"You have seen real old-time play-acting," he told the Corners. "Itis the primitive method of performing dramas. So Shakespeare gave hisplays, and so the old Spanish dramatists, Lope de Vega and Calderon,saw theirs played."
"It was great fun," the girls declared, "and we shall not forget it ina hurry."
"What a country of surprises it is," said Nan. "It isn't a bit like anyother, and I am so glad we could come."
The crowd had dispersed, seeming actually to melt away, so quickly the_plaza_ was deserted by all but two or three persons. Among thesewas the little girl who had taken part in the show. It seemed to be afamily affair in which mamma beat the drum, papa and another youngerman took the principal parts, and the children fitted in wherever aplace could be made for them.
Nan stood watching the child, who, with a candle, was searching forsomething. "What have you lost?" asked Nan in her best Spanish.
"My slippers," said the child, and Nan could see that she had beencrying.
"She has lost her slippers," said Nan to Mercedes. "Let us help herlook for them. I wonder if that is why she has been crying."
Mercedes put some questions. "It is not that," she told Nan, "but shehad to walk the tight rope, which is really a wire, without them, andit cut her poor little feet badly."
"Dear me!" Nan was all sympathy and rushed off to tell the tale to Mr.Pinckney, who, as usual, was moved to a better condition by a poulticeof money. He slipped a gold piece into the child's hand and she wentoff happily, since she had now more than enough to make good the lossof the slippers.
"Rather an expensive performance for you, grandfather," said MissDolores smiling.
"Not so very," he replied, "when you consider what we pay for opera inNew York, and this was much more of a novelty."
"That is just like you, Mr. St. Nick," said Mary Lee. "You play SantaClaus all the year round."
The time flew by till there were but three days left. One of these wasgiven to Covadonga which all were eager to see.
"I love the story of Pelayo," Miss Dolores told the girls.
"Who was Pelayo, anyhow?" asked Mary Lee.
"He was the son of Favila, a Goth of royal lineage. He commanded thebody-guard of Witiza, and his enthusiasm and influence roused hiscompatriots to fight. The different tribes by this time, the fairGoths, the Iberians of lofty stature, as well as the descendants ofthe Romans, had become Asturians all and made common cause against theArabs. In those long ago days, when the Moors were trying to becomevictors all over Spain, the Asturian mountains became the refuge of thetribes who united against the Moors. They were headed by Pelayo. TheBerbers sent Al-Kaman to vanquish these spirited and defiant people.Pelayo drew them into the great gorges at Covadonga and there theywere slain by thousands. Pelayo was then made king by his victoriouspeople. This was in 718, and so you see Asturias was the cradle of theSpanish monarchy. You must see the cave where Pelayo and his followerstook refuge, and if you could stay till the early part of next monthyou would be here when the great pilgrimage takes place. The figure ofour 'Lady of Covadonga' is much venerated."
"I have seen a number of pictures of it in the houses of the peoplehere," said Mary Lee.
"I should like to read about Pelayo," said Nan. "Is there anythingspecial that tells of him?"
"There is a wild poem and many legends. You can see Pelayo's tomb andthat of Alfonso I and his queen when you go to Covadonga. There is muchromantic history of this part of Spain."
"I would love to read it all," Nan declared, "and when I get a chanceI am going to study Spanish so as to get hold of what I should like toknow. One hears much more about Granada and Andalusia, but I am glad wecame here first."
The trip to Covadonga was the last one undertaken, and then the girlsset out upon their return trip which Mr. Pinckney and Miss Dolores wereto take with them, going on from Paris to Switzerland.
Mercedes actually shed tears at the thought of parting from her newfriends, and the reserved Don Antonio looked very solemn. He presentedeach of the girls with a huge bouquet of flowers, while Dona Teresagave them a box of chocolate and a bottle of _anisado_, the latteras a remedy against any ills which might befall digestion during thejourney. The two younger girls, Maria Isabel and Consuelo, gatheredripe figs from their own tree to present to the travelers, and wouldhave added more flowers to those the girls already had, but weretold by Mercedes that no more could be carried. Mercedes bestowedher favorite antique reliquary upon her cousin Dolores, gave MaryLee a tiny silver cross with a figure of San Roque upon it, whileNan received a tambourine. Mercedes would have given them her entire_aldeana_ costume as well, if they had not protested that they wouldnot be able to pack so much in their trunks.
"I have always heard," said Nan to her sister, "that you have but toadmire anything in Spain, be it great or small, to have it offered toyou, though one must not accept it."
"I am sure that Mercedes was quite sincere in wanting us to accept herdress," returned Mary Lee.
"I am sure she was, and I think the people usually are. I never sawsuch generosity as they all show, from the peasants up. I am sure Iknow exactly how the dresses are made, and we have the photographs ofMercedes in hers to remind us, so I think we shall have no trouble ifwe ever want to make them for ourselves."
"And perhaps Mercedes will come over to see her cousin. We must be sureto make her have a good time, Nan."
"Indeed we will do that. Isn't it nice to have a Spanish girl friend?Won't the girls at home be interested when we tell them about her?"
"They will think we are great on having unusual friends," said MaryLee. "You remember how excited they were over Daniella at school lastyear."
"Indeed I do. How long ago that seems, and how much we have seen sincethen."
"And how much more we shall see before we get back."
"So far I like Spain best," decided Nan.
"I, too," returned Mary Lee.
Back again they traveled, leaving behind the creaking cow-carts, thepanniered donkeys, the towering mountains, the blue sea, and above allthe warm-hearted Spanish family with whom their month's stay had beenall too short.
"We shall never forget you," Nan assured Mercedes, "and some day weshall meet again; I am sure of it."
Mercedes, with swimming eyes, declared she hoped so, and the wholefamil
y having gone to the train with their guests, they waved farewellsfrom the platform of the station, the last thing they saw being Neddy'sgray ears as Mercedes and Maria Isabel drove him around the corner.
"Some day," remarked Mary Lee, as she settled back in her seat, "Imean to come back to Spain. I shall take that nice little house thatMercedes told me could be rented for forty dollars a year, for thenI shall be old enough to keep house. I shall hire a servant for twodollars a month and I shall live on figs and chestnuts."
Miss Dolores laughed. "You would certainly need many doses of _anisado_if you were to do that," she said.
"For all there is so much corn in this part of the country," remarkedNan, "we didn't see any of our old home corn bread."
"No, and you never would see. The meal used by the peasants is poorstuff compared to ours," Mr. Pinckney told her. "They make it into athick solid mass which is as unappetizing as it is unwholesome. Lookover there, Nan; there is that old monastery you are so fond of, andthe church attached to it. Pretty soon Mary Lee will see the town whereher San Roque was honored in _fiesta_."
"That was a great _fiesta_," said Nan reminiscently. "How Jack wouldhave enjoyed those funny fire balloons they sent up, the pigs and suchthings, the _perigrinos_, too."
"And those great giant figures dancing the _jota_ all the time theprocession was moving," said Mary Lee.
"There was nothing very solemn about it, as there was at Celorio," Nanwent on. "To be sure, San Roque had a very serious expression, buteverything and everybody else were as gay as larks."
With such chat they beguiled their way till night brought them again toBilbao and the next afternoon saw them leaving San Sebastian and sayingfarewell to Spain. "_Adios, Espana!_" cried Nan.
"You may say _Adios_, if you choose," said Mary Lee, "but I shall sayonly _Hasta manana_; for I mean to come back."
Miss Dolores smiled down at her, for she well knew that part of thisenthusiasm for Spain was due to Mary Lee's love for this seniorita forwhom she had always held a worshipful feeling.
There was no stop this time on the French side of the line, for theytook the express to Paris and arrived there after a heavy rain whenthe French girls with their high heels and fluffy skirts were daintilystepping across the puddles, and before the hour when the students ofthe Latin quarter were ready to go forth to the restaurants and cafesfor the evening meal. A quick drive from the railway station and thegirls were again under their mother's wing, eager to tell of theiradventures in Spain.
CHAPTER VII
ACROSS THE CHANNEL]