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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40592 ***
+
+  THE LITTLE
+  SPANISH DANCER
+
+
+
+  [Illustration: A STREET IN SEVILLE]
+
+
+
+  _The_ LITTLE
+  SPANISH DANCER
+
+  BY
+  MADELINE BRANDEIS
+
+  _Photographic Illustrations_
+
+  GROSSET & DUNLAP
+  PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
+  _by arrangement with the A. Flanagan Company_
+
+
+
+  COPYRIGHT, 1936, BY A. FLANAGAN COMPANY
+
+  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
+
+
+
+
+  AN INTERNATIONAL DEDICATION
+
+  TO
+
+  AILEEN
+
+    MY "PARISIAN" SISTER, HER "RUMANIAN" HUSBAND, AND THE MEMORY OF THE
+    "RUSSIAN" BALLET DANCING WHICH SHE USED TO DO IN "AMERICA" WHEN SHE
+    WAS THE AGE OF LITTLE "SPANISH" PILAR!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+  NOTE
+
+    The photographs in this book were taken in Spain by the author.
+    The character of "The Little Spanish Dancer" is portrayed by Pilar
+    Herrera, of Seville, a charming little girl, whom we wish to thank
+    for helping to decorate this book.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                    PAGE
+
+  Chapter I
+    The Magic Castanets                                9
+
+  Chapter II
+    An Old Red Cape                                   20
+
+  Chapter III
+    In Old Cadiz (A Legend of the Castanets)          32
+
+  Chapter IV
+    The Souvenirs Speak                               44
+
+  Chapter V
+    In Old Granada (A Legend of the Castanets)        61
+
+  Chapter VI
+    Another Visit to Juan                             71
+
+  Chapter VII
+    Four Old Paintings                                 77
+
+  Chapter VIII
+    Fiesta                                            89
+
+  Chapter IX
+    The Mystery of the Young Prince                  100
+
+  Chapter X
+    A Stout Sweetheart                               115
+
+  Chapter XI
+    Dance of the Six (A Legend of the Castanets)     123
+
+  Chapter XII
+    Pilar's Grandfather Remembers                    134
+
+  Chapter XIII
+    Bullfight in Madrid (A Legend of the Castanets)  138
+
+  Chapter XIV
+    Where Is Pilar?                                  156
+
+  Chapter XV
+    A Stranger Arrives                               163
+
+  Pronouncing Vocabulary                             175
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+                                                    PAGE
+
+  A STREET IN SEVILLE                                  2
+
+  THE LITTLE SPANISH DANCER                            8
+
+  DANCING IN A PUBLIC SQUARE, SEVILLE                 11
+
+  WHEN PILAR WAS LITTLE                               14
+
+  PILAR KNELT DOWN BESIDE THE CHEST                   17
+
+  GIRALDA TOWER, SEVILLE                              19
+
+  STREET OF THE SERPENTS                              21
+
+  ALCAZAR GARDENS, SEVILLE                            25
+
+  JUAN, THE SHOPKEEPER                                27
+
+  SEVILLE                                             29
+
+  CADIZ                                               33
+
+  STREET OF THE SERPENTS                              36
+
+  ALCAZAR GARDENS, SEVILLE                            40
+
+  SEVILLE                                             43
+
+  HOW COULD SHE GIVE THEM UP?                         46
+
+  PUERTO DEL SOL, TOLEDO                              49
+
+  BARCELONA                                           51
+
+  TOMB OF THE CHILDREN, EL ESCORIAL                   54
+
+  PILAR LOOKED AT THE FAN                             56
+
+  GYPSIES, GRANADA                                    60
+
+  GENERALIFE GARDENS, ALHAMBRA                        62
+
+  BOABDIL SURRENDERING TO FERDINAND                   66
+
+  GRANADA                                             68
+
+  POTTERY SHOP, TRIANA                                74
+
+  COURT OF DOLLS, ALCAZAR                             76
+
+  PILAR                                               78
+
+  SALAMANCA                                           82
+
+  ST. TERESA CONVENT, AVILA                           84
+
+  PILAR IN HER COSTUME                                90
+
+  THE MOSQUE, CORDOBA                                 92
+
+  ANDALUSIAN HAT                                      93
+
+  A FIELD NEAR CORDOBA                                95
+
+  A DOUGHNUT STAND                                    97
+
+  AVILA                                              103
+
+  PARK IN MADRID, STATUE OF KING ALFONSO             107
+
+  BURGOS CATHEDRAL                                   109
+
+  MIRAFLORES MONASTERY, BURGOS                       112
+
+  TOMBS OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA, GRANADA CATHEDRAL 114
+
+  GIRL-DRAPED BALCONIES                              117
+
+  GIBRALTAR                                          120
+
+  ALHAMBRA                                           122
+
+  DANCE OF THE SIX, SEVILLE CATHEDRAL                125
+
+  BOYS PLAYING BULLFIGHT                             136
+
+  BULLFIGHT, MADRID                                  137
+
+  MADRID                                             144
+
+  _From a Painting by Goya_ DOÑA ISABEL CORBO DE
+    PORCEL                                           147
+
+  BULLFIGHT, MADRID                                  151
+
+  THE PRADO, MADRID                                  155
+
+  TOLEDO                                             159
+
+  TRIANA BRIDGE, SEVILLE                             162
+
+  A NET MAKER, SEVILLE                               166
+
+  TOLEDO                                             169
+
+  PILAR AND HER GRANDFATHER                          172
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE LITTLE SPANISH DANCER]
+
+
+
+
+The Little Spanish Dancer
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+THE MAGIC CASTANETS
+
+
+Pilar was dancing in the Murillo (m[+u]-r[)i]l´[=o]) Garden. It was a
+beautiful public garden named after the great Spanish painter, Murillo,
+who died in a house near by.
+
+Pilar had been born ten years ago in this old city of Seville
+(s[+e]-v[)i]l´). If you had asked Pilar, "Where is New York?" she would
+doubtless have laughed with her lovely dark eyes and inquired, "Is it in
+Seville?" Because, to Pilar, as to most of her friends, there was only
+one world, and that world was Seville.
+
+Now a terrible thing was happening at Pilar's home this evening. But
+Pilar did not know it because she was dancing in the garden. Every
+night, after her grandfather went to bed, she ran off and danced with
+her friends to the music of a hurdy-gurdy.
+
+But tonight, after Pilar had left, her grandfather had been taken very
+ill. The neighbors had sent for a doctor, who shook his head gravely
+over the poor old man.
+
+Pilar knew nothing about this as she clicked her castanets and whirled
+about in the dance they call the Sevillana.
+
+She was one of the best dancers in her group. And why not? Her mother
+had been a dancer; her grandmother, too, yes, and her great-grandmother
+and her great-great--oh, ever so many great-grandmothers! They had all
+been dancers.
+
+Pilar's parents had died when she was a baby. She lived alone with her
+grandfather, and they struggled to keep the wolf named Hunger from
+their door. Her grandfather was a shoemaker, but he worked slowly these
+days because his hands were old.
+
+[Illustration: DANCING IN A PUBLIC SQUARE, SEVILLE]
+
+Once when Pilar was very little, someone had asked her what pleasures
+she enjoyed most. She had answered, "The pleasures I enjoy most
+are--dancing!"
+
+Now this could easily be the answer of every little girl in southern
+Spain. For while Italy sings, France designs, and Switzerland skates,
+Spain dances. Why, it is even possible that little girls in Seville
+would rather dance than go to moving picture shows!
+
+Yet everyone in Seville does not feel that way, for the many open air
+theaters all over the city are crowded. And what the people seem to like
+best are the American comedies.
+
+It was growing late, but Pilar seldom went to bed before midnight. She
+would have told you that evening was the time to live and to laugh and
+to dance. Then it was cool, while during the day the sun beat down
+cruelly and people slept for hours.
+
+Through the narrow streets Pilar made her way home at last. She heard
+little snatches of song from the throats of strollers.
+
+Everyone strolls in Seville; there is no hurry. Nearly everyone sings;
+there is no worry. Hurry and worry are as much out of place in this city
+as a woman's hat shop. For white flowers and black lace shawls take the
+place of hats in Seville.
+
+Pilar hummed to herself as she walked along. Some day she would grow up
+to be a great dancer like her mother and--
+
+What was that? A light in her house? She looked through the window and
+saw the doctor bending over her grandfather's bed.
+
+Pilar caught her breath. Then she rushed indoors and ran straight to her
+grandfather's bedside. Sinking down on her knees, she burst into tears.
+
+"Oh, Grandfather!" she cried. "You are ill! Dear Grandfather, what is
+the matter?"
+
+The doctor smoothed her soft, black hair and raised her to her feet.
+
+"There, now, my child," he said. "You must not cry. You will only make
+your grandfather worse. He will get well if you will do what I tell
+you."
+
+[Illustration: WHEN PILAR WAS LITTLE]
+
+"What--what is that, doctor?" Poor Pilar was trembling.
+
+"You must buy and cook good, nourishing food for him," said the doctor.
+"And give him the medicines which I order."
+
+Now Pilar's eyes were full of terror. "But, oh, doctor," she cried. "I
+cannot do that. We have no money."
+
+"No money?" The doctor looked at her pityingly.
+
+"We live by what Grandfather makes when he can work," said Pilar. "Now
+that he cannot work, there will be no money."
+
+The doctor said, "Um-m" and stroked his beard. Then he asked, "Have you
+nothing which you might sell?"
+
+"Only--" And Pilar gazed into her tiny cubbyhole of a room next door.
+"Only an old wooden chest filled with souvenirs, left to me by my
+mother." She added in a whisper, "I could not sell them!"
+
+The doctor was silent for a moment. Then he said, "I am afraid you must
+sell them, Pilar, if you wish your grandfather to live."
+
+When the doctor was gone, Pilar went into her room and looked at the
+precious wooden chest. In it were the souvenirs which her mother had
+collected throughout her interesting life as a dancer.
+
+The doctor had given her grandfather medicine, and now he slept. But
+what would happen in the morning?
+
+Pilar shuddered. She was only a little girl, and she was afraid. The
+doctor had said that her grandfather must have the best of everything,
+or maybe he would die.
+
+A tear splashed down upon the old, carved chest. There was only one
+thing to do. Tomorrow she would go into town and sell one of her
+mother's souvenirs so that she might buy medicine and food.
+
+She brushed away the tears and began to look through her treasures.
+There were a tall, graceful comb; a faded, but elegant fan; a richly
+decorated old bonnet; oh, such lovely things! How could she ever part
+with them?
+
+She pulled out a pair of castanets (k[)a]s´-t[.a]-n[)e]ts´). Now, in
+Spain, it seems that every baby is born with a pair of castanets in its
+hand. Of course, I only said, "It seems." Yet some of the tiniest tots
+are taught to click these wooden clappers to the rhythm of the
+traditional Spanish songs and dances.
+
+Castanets are shaped very much like chestnuts. They say that this is why
+they are called castanuellos, which means "chestnuts" in Spanish.
+
+[Illustration: PILAR KNELT DOWN BESIDE THE CHEST]
+
+But those which had belonged to Pilar's mother were no ordinary
+castanets. Indeed, they were said to possess some wonderful and
+dangerous power.
+
+Mysterious legends had passed from mother to daughter down through
+Pilar's family. Each legend told of trouble caused by the loss of these
+castanets. For whenever they had been lost, given, stolen, or sold,
+misfortune had come to their owners.
+
+A bit of verse, composed, no doubt, by the first ancestor who had used
+them, warned thus:
+
+    "_Castanets, with magic spell,
+    Never lose or give or sell;
+    If you do, then grief and strife
+    Will follow you through all your life._"
+
+But Pilar had never heard the old rime. Nor had her grandfather ever
+told her the strange legends. He did not want to frighten her. Besides,
+he realized that modern, educated people would have called such beliefs
+very foolish.
+
+So Pilar did not know about the power of the magic castanets, and she
+fell asleep that night with these words going through her head: "Which
+souvenir shall I sell tomorrow? Which one shall it be?"
+
+[Illustration: GIRALDA TOWER, SEVILLE]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+AN OLD RED CAPE
+
+
+Morning came. Pilar attended her sick grandfather and made him
+comfortable in his bed. He did not speak to her. He seemed to want to
+doze all the time.
+
+She went into her room and knelt down beside the wooden chest. She must
+go now and sell one of the treasures. Which one should it be?
+
+She took out each in turn and looked at them. All were so
+precious--parts of her mother's life. Here was an old pair of castanets,
+scarred and battered, not so pretty as the beautiful comb, the handsome
+clock, the embroidered bonnet, or--
+
+Perhaps she would sell those ugly castanets. And yet--just look at
+this old red cape! Like a bullfighter's cape, only small and faded and
+torn--surely the least interesting and attractive of her treasures. She
+took it into her grandfather's room.
+
+[Illustration: STREET OF THE SERPENTS]
+
+"Grandfather," she said, "I am going to the shop of Juan (hwän)
+Sanchez, and I shall ask him to buy this old cape. With the money I
+shall buy food."
+
+Her grandfather opened his dull eyes and looked first at the black-eyed,
+rosy little Pilar and then at the old red cape.
+
+"It belonged, once long ago, to--Tony--" he began.
+
+Then his voice trailed off. He closed his eyes and fell asleep again. He
+was very feeble.
+
+Pilar kissed him gently and stole out of the house.
+
+The narrow streets of Seville looked like thin Arabs with their arms
+pressed close to their white-robed sides. They were bright with
+sunlight. They were noisy with squawking motor horns, with chattering
+men and women.
+
+Juan's shop was on the Street of the Serpents, a wriggling ribbon
+of a street with booths and shops and cafés--a street of ragged people,
+of staring people, of chanting, selling people. But no automobiles or
+wagons were allowed upon the Street of the Serpents.
+
+Pilar met Juan Sanchez at the door of his tiny shop.
+
+"Good morning, Señorita (s[=a]´ny[=o]-r[=e]´-tä) Pilar," he smiled.
+
+He was glad to see Pilar. Everyone in Spain is always glad to see
+children. This is a good thing, because Spain is overflowing with
+children.
+
+"Good morning, Señor (s[=a]-ny[=o]r´) Juan," said the little girl. Then,
+timidly she held up the faded old cape. "Will you buy this from me?" she
+asked. "My grandfather is ill, and I must have money to pay for food and
+medicine."
+
+Juan looked at the cape. He said nothing, but his mouth twitched as
+though it wanted to smile. He turned the cape inside out and stared at
+something he saw.
+
+"The name 'Tony' is printed in ink on the inside of this cape," he said.
+
+But Pilar was not interested. She only looked up at him and repeated
+earnestly, "Will you buy it, señor? Will you?"
+
+Juan shook his head. "No, Pilar," he answered. "I cannot buy it because
+it is worth nothing to me."
+
+Then as he saw the cloud cover her smile, he added, "But it may be worth
+a great deal to you if you will send it away!"
+
+"If I will send it away, señor?" Pilar thought that the good Juan must
+be teasing her. "What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean," he said, "that you must send it to America to the one whose
+name is written here."
+
+He pointed to the name Tony. It meant nothing until Juan explained.
+
+[Illustration: ALCAZAR GARDENS, SEVILLE]
+
+"Years ago," he said, "Tony was a little boy who played in the streets
+of Seville. He liked to play bullfight. This is the cape with which he
+angered the make-believe bull. I was that bull."
+
+"You, Juan? You were the bull?" laughed Pilar.
+
+"Yes, and a fierce one with great horns which I held proudly to my
+head," answered Juan. "But today," he went on, "today this Tony--ah, he
+is a very rich man. He has made many American dollars."
+
+"But how did his cape come to be among my mother's souvenirs?" asked
+Pilar.
+
+"When Tony went away to seek his fortune in America," said Juan, "he
+must have given it to your mother. They lived next door to each other
+when they were children. They were very good friends."
+
+"But why should I send the cape to Tony in America?" asked Pilar.
+
+"Because," answered Juan, "I am sure that he will remember your mother
+and help you in your trouble."
+
+Pilar's eyes shone. "Oh, do you think so?" she cried.
+
+[Illustration: JUAN, THE SHOPKEEPER]
+
+Juan nodded his head knowingly. "I shall send it for you, Pilar," he
+said. "And I shall write a letter, too, and tell Tony about your sick
+grandfather. Now take this money, child, and buy what you need."
+
+He pressed some coins into Pilar's hand, but she shrank back.
+
+"Oh, no, no!" she exclaimed. "I cannot take money from you, señor, when
+I have given you nothing for it!"
+
+Juan laughed. "Very well, little proud one," he said. "You may bring me
+something else tomorrow."
+
+Pilar thought of the old pair of castanets.
+
+She asked Juan whether he would take them, and he replied, "Of course.
+It is not difficult to sell castanets in Seville."
+
+So Pilar left the shop of Juan Sanchez, and her heart sang as she
+skipped along. She bought bread and fish and eggs and she took them
+home.
+
+She cooked the fish and the eggs in oil, as Spanish people do. Then she
+poured some milk out of a pitcher and tried to make her grandfather eat
+and drink.
+
+After that, she went into her tiny room and once again opened the wooden
+chest. This time she took out the magic castanets, whose mysterious
+history she did not know.
+
+[Illustration: SEVILLE]
+
+But her grandfather knew all those terrible legends which had been
+handed down through the family. He was too intelligent really to believe
+them but when Pilar came into his room holding the clappers in her hand,
+his eyes suddenly filled with fear.
+
+"What are you doing with the castanets, Pilly?" he asked in his weak
+voice.
+
+"I am going to sell them to Juan Sanchez," answered Pilar, smoothing his
+pillow. "Then I shall buy a little chicken and cook it for your dinner."
+
+"No, no!" The old man tried to sit up in bed. "Do not sell the cast--"
+
+But Pilar interrupted him. "Please, Grandfather," she said. "You must
+not talk. You must rest while I am gone."
+
+She made him lie down again and he sank back wearily, closing his eyes.
+He was too weak to say any more, but his lips began to move.
+
+"Castanets, with--magic--spell--" he muttered to himself.
+
+The words were muffled. Pilar could not understand them.
+
+She patted his hand gently and said, "Go to sleep, dear Grandfather. Do
+not worry. Pilar will take good care of you."
+
+Then she sang a little song which sounded like a Moorish chant. And
+perhaps it was, for Spain once was ruled by the Moors, who left much of
+their art and music behind them when they were driven out.
+
+Pilar's soothing voice soon lulled her grandfather to sleep. And so it
+was that he did not finish the verse about the castanets.
+
+It was a pity, too, as you will agree when you have heard the legend of
+the castanets in old Cadiz (k[)a]d´[)i]z).
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+IN OLD CADIZ
+
+(A LEGEND OF THE CASTANETS)
+
+
+Before the Moors came into Spain, Cadiz, or Gadir, as it was then
+called, had become famous for its dancers. Throughout the land they were
+known for their grace and beauty.
+
+Now there lived at this time one who had grown too old to dance any
+more. So she wished to teach her little daughter the steps she had once
+loved so well.
+
+But strangely enough, she was afraid to do this--afraid, because a
+savage race called the Visigoths (v[)i]z´[)i] g[)o]ths) were sweeping
+through Spain and were trying to destroy the art of the people. They
+were overrunning the country, smashing great statues and burning fine
+books.
+
+[Illustration: CADIZ]
+
+What would they do if they were to discover that women were secretly
+teaching their children to carry on the art of dancing?
+
+Although she feared the Visigoths, this mother, who had once been a
+dancer, used to take her daughter to a cave far from the city. And here
+she would attempt to instruct the little girl.
+
+But young Lira did not want to learn to dance. She was plump and lazy.
+She disliked to exercise, except with a knife and fork. For eating was
+the only thing she really enjoyed.
+
+One day when the sun shone fiercely, Lira felt very sorry for herself.
+She was hot and twice as lazy as usual--which, I assure you, was
+dreadfully lazy!
+
+She decided that she would not take her dancing lesson. Yet how was she
+to escape it? Soon her mother would be leading her off to the cave and
+making her work.
+
+Lira bit into a large loaf of bread and thought furiously. Why, of
+course! She would hide her mother's castanets and then say that she had
+lost them. This was a splendid idea.
+
+So running off ahead of her mother, she made her way to the secret cave.
+Below her lay the city of Cadiz. It was so white that it made one think
+of chalk on snow. But to hungry little Lira, it looked like whipped
+cream!
+
+Cadiz points her long, white finger out into the azure blue bay. She has
+a gleaming golden eye, which is the dome of her cathedral.
+
+When Lira's mother arrived at the cave, Lira ran up to her and
+exclaimed, "Oh, Mother, I have lost the castanets! And now there will be
+no lesson today."
+
+She then sat down and continued to chew contentedly upon her enormous
+loaf of bread. But her mother's face turned white.
+
+[Illustration: STREET OF THE SERPENTS]
+
+"What are you saying, child?" she cried. "Do you tell me you have lost
+the castanets?"
+
+Lira nodded and took an unusually large bite out of the loaf. Her mother
+stood over her, her face a mask of fear.
+
+"Lira," she gasped, "do you know what you have done? If, indeed, you
+have lost the castanets, then truly you have brought misfortune upon
+your whole family."
+
+Whereupon, her mother recited this verse:
+
+    "_Castanets, with magic spell,
+    Never lose or give or sell;
+    If you do, then grief and strife
+    Will follow you through all your life._"
+
+Lira's eyes grew big. The loaf of bread dropped to the ground as she
+arose.
+
+Leading her mother to the rock behind which she had hidden the
+castanets, she said, "Look, Mother. The castanets are not really lost. I
+was only fooling you. They are hidden in here and--"
+
+She pulled out the loose rock and looked behind it. The castanets were
+gone.
+
+Now, in those days, people believed in spells and charms, and Lira's
+mother was terribly frightened. She was also terribly angry with Lira.
+
+She hurried away toward home, leaving Lira standing alone, with the
+tears running down her plump little cheeks. She was afraid to go home,
+and so she wandered down to the wide beach.
+
+Here children were playing, while boys and girls with flashing eyes were
+swinging along, clapping their hands and singing. Music sounded.
+Laughter rang. Night had begun to fall.
+
+A crescent moon hung in the sky. It was a moon that had been cut in
+half, and the other half was Cadiz. The air was full of dream dust, with
+garlic in it.
+
+Lira did not feel the spell of night that had settled upon the rest of
+the world. She was too miserable. What had become of the castanets?
+
+Had some evil power removed them from behind that rock? And if so, what
+frightful thing would happen to her and to her family?
+
+Gradually the people began to leave the beach and finally Lira found
+herself alone. She looked out across the bay--a bay that was to become
+the scene of historic battles during Spain's wars with England and
+France.
+
+Moonlight twinkled silvery upon the water. It was very quiet. And then,
+all at once, Lira heard a step behind her, and a mysterious voice
+whispered: "Lira, Lira, turn around!"
+
+Her heart skipped like a pebble across a lake. She turned. There stood
+her older brother, his figure looming straight and tall in the
+moonlight. Lira sighed with relief.
+
+[Illustration: ALCAZAR GARDENS, SEVILLE]
+
+But her brother did not move. He only stood, scowling down at her. Then
+he continued to talk in that low, frightening voice.
+
+"Do you know," he said, "that you have brought terrible misfortune upon
+us, Lira?"
+
+Lira felt the hot tears begin to sting her eyes again. So he, too, was
+going to scold her for losing the castanets! But suddenly he took a step
+toward her and, thrusting his face close to hers, said, "The Visigoths
+are coming to drive us away from our homes!"
+
+Lira began to tremble. Those terrifying savages! She knew that they had
+been sweeping her country, destroying everything in their path. Now they
+were about to descend upon her home. And it was all her fault--hers! She
+sobbed and clung to her brother.
+
+"Oh, why did I do it?" she cried. "Why did I hide the castanets?"
+
+Her brother put his hand under her chin and lifted her head so that
+their eyes met.
+
+"Are you sorry, little sister?" he asked kindly.
+
+Lira's answer was a pitiful wail.
+
+"Will you ever tell another untruth?"
+
+"No, no, never, as long as I live!"
+
+"Will you remember the jingle about the castanets?"
+
+"Yes, yes! Always and forever!"
+
+"And will you work hard and learn to dance and carry on our mother's
+art?"
+
+"Yes, yes! Oh, I will try so hard!"
+
+"Then--look, sister!"
+
+And to her amazement, Lira's brother held out the magic castanets. He
+had been watching when she hid them. And when she had gone into the
+cave, he had played a trick upon her by taking them away.
+
+It was a trick that Lira never forgot--never, though she lived to be
+very old. All her life she treasured the magic castanets and never
+again did she lose sight of them.
+
+But something else she did lose, and that was her round little figure.
+Indeed, she became lovely and slender. She also became a famous dancer,
+and one day she taught her own children the dances of Spain.
+
+[Illustration: SEVILLE]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE SOUVENIRS SPEAK
+
+
+Pilar was on her way to Juan's shop on the Street of the Serpents. In
+her hand were those magic castanets. She was taking them to Juan. She
+was going to sell them.
+
+She passed the lovely Alcazar (äl-kä´thär) Gardens, from which came the
+perfume of flowers and blossoms. She heard the soft voice of bells from
+the Giralda, a prayer tower which had belonged to an ancient Moorish
+mosque (m[)o]sk).
+
+In a little square, some of Pilar's friends were dancing to the music of
+a hurdy-gurdy. Pilar stopped. How she longed to join them in their
+dance!
+
+The thought came to her that she had never tried her mother's
+castanets. She wondered how they would sound. She fixed them on her
+fingers and began to play.
+
+Their beauty astonished her. They spoke. They sang. They cried out to
+her feet and she danced. She danced until she was breathless and the
+hurdy-gurdy had gone away. So had the children--gone to their homes.
+
+Pilar was alone. She stood in the center of the little court, its white,
+balconied houses all around, and its ancient fountain squatting in the
+center.
+
+But to Pilar, time had not passed. She had been in a dream of music. The
+castanets had drawn her into a dream of music and dance.
+
+Now she slowly unloosed them from her fingers. Never had she known that
+such beautiful sound could come from two wooden clappers. Why, her own
+little cheap ones were hideous and shrill beside these speaking marvels.
+
+[Illustration: HOW COULD SHE GIVE THEM UP?]
+
+How could she give them up? How could she take them to Juan to be sold?
+No, no! She must keep them. She must keep them and dance every day to
+their rippling music.
+
+But Juan had given her money, for which she had promised to bring him
+the castanets. And it would never do to give Juan her own instead, for
+that would be cheating.
+
+But there were other lovely souvenirs in her chest at home. Perhaps Juan
+would as soon have one of these!
+
+Pilar went home, and once again she knelt down beside the wooden chest.
+Out came each precious souvenir. Which should she take to Juan in place
+of the castanets?
+
+If those souvenirs could have spoken, what strangely wonderful stories
+they could have told!
+
+Pretend, for fun, that they can speak, and let us listen to their
+ancient voices.
+
+
+    _The Sharp Knife From Toledo_
+
+"I am a knife--a very sharp knife. I was made in Toledo, which is said
+to be the oldest town in Spain.
+
+"Toledo sits proudly upon a granite throne, like some weatherbeaten
+queen. The River Tagus (t[=a]´g[)u]s) laps about her feet as though to
+wash away the dust of ages.
+
+"There are Arab stories in the ancient streets of Toledo. Once it was an
+important center of the Romans, the Goths, and then the Moors.
+
+"The cathedral is supposed to be the richest in the world. It contains a
+room with massive doors, to which six keys must be used before one may
+enter. In this room are the priceless jewels of the Madonna.
+
+"I am made of the celebrated Damascus (d[.a]-m[)a]s´k[)u]s) steel. I
+have a beautiful design worked into my handle. Ages ago, this art, which
+is called Damascene (d[)a]m´[.a]-s[=e]n) work, was brought from the
+city of Damascus.
+
+[Illustration: PUERTO DEL SOL, TOLEDO]
+
+"I have a very dangerous temper and when I am angered, I bite. So be
+careful, for I am a very sharp knife."
+
+
+    _The Proud Comb From Barcelona_
+
+"I am a tall, elegant comb, and my home is Barcelona
+(bär´s[)e]-l[=o]´n[.a]), the most important city in Spain. Oh, dear!
+There goes Madrid, howling at me again! Whenever I say that Barcelona
+is more important, the city of Madrid creates the most frightful row.
+
+"It is jealousy, of course. For even if she is the capital of Spain, she
+is not so wonderful as Barcelona. At least, that is what we who live
+here think. And perhaps I can convince you, too, if you will go for a
+walk with me.
+
+"Just think! I am honoring you by inviting you to walk with me through
+Barcelona, Spain's most important--oh, all right, then, Spain's most
+modern city!
+
+"Shall we start from the harbor? It is the chief port of Spain. Do you
+see that fine monument of Christopher Columbus over there?
+
+[Illustration: BARCELONA]
+
+"Now we shall stroll along the celebrated Rambla. Is this not a handsome
+promenade, with its flowers and trees? Would you like to sit here at a
+little table and sip some chocolate?
+
+"They say that Barcelona has more sidewalk cafés than any other city its
+size in Europe. You see, we know how to enjoy ourselves. Yet we are not
+lazy. No, indeed! We are most active. Why, Barcelona never sleeps.
+
+"We are situated on the blue Mediterranean Sea. Not far from
+the city, there is a wonderful monastery called Montserrat
+(m[)o]nt´s[)e]-r[)a]t´). It is perched high up amid a mystic
+forest of stony crags.
+
+"Montserrat is the shrine of the Black Virgin, a sacred carving. The
+story goes that when the Moors held Spain, this carving was hidden in a
+cave. Many years later, it was found by shepherds who heard weird music
+near by.
+
+"They tried to move the Black Virgin, but could not, and so a church was
+built to hold it. Today great crowds swarm up the mountain to see the
+sacred carving.
+
+"But now I shall have to leave you. I could show you much more, of
+course, but there might be an objection if I did. You ask why? Because a
+certain city I know would be afraid that you might agree with me that
+Barcelona is more important than she is!"
+
+
+    _The Lazy Clock From El Escorial_
+
+"I am an old clock. I used to sit upon a shelf in one of the most
+curious castles in Spain--El Escorial ([)e]l [)e]s-k[=o]´r[)i]-[)a]l).
+It was built by King Philip II.
+
+[Illustration: TOMB OF THE CHILDREN, EL ESCORIAL]
+
+"King Philip built El Escorial as his tomb. Today, it stands a gray and
+gloomy monument upon a barren hill, and in its vaults are buried the
+kings and queens of Spain.
+
+"Among the marble tombs, there is one which looks like a round, white
+birthday cake. It is the tomb of the children--young princes and
+princesses.
+
+"King Philip watched the building of this immense palace from a rocky
+seat on a hill above. And later when he was very ill, he used to lie in
+his bedroom next to the chapel and listen to the church services.
+
+"Ho, hum! I am a sleepy, lazy old clock. But then, all clocks in Spain
+grow lazy, for we are seldom used. Everybody is always late.
+
+"Yet here is a funny thing. I have been told that Spain produces more
+quicksilver than any other country. Think of that! Quicksilver!"
+
+[Illustration: PILAR LOOKED AT THE FAN]
+
+
+   _The Faded Fan From Valladolid_
+
+"I am a fan. I belonged to a lady who lived in the town of Valladolid
+(väl´yä-th[+o]-l[=e]th´). It was built by a Moor named Olid, and was
+called Valle de Olid, Valley of Olid.
+
+"The names of many important men are connected with Valladolid. King
+Philip II was born there. The Catholic monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella,
+were married there. Cervantes (s[~e]r-v[)a]n´t[=e]z), the author of 'Don
+Quixote' (d[+o]n k[+e]-h[=o]´t[+a]), that famous Spanish romance,
+lived there; and Christopher Columbus died there."
+
+
+   _The Saucy Bonnet From Segovia_
+
+"I am a bonnet, and I am very proud of myself because I am a beautiful
+creation. I am also very proud to think that I was born in the marvelous
+city of Segovia (s[+a]-g[=o]´vyä).
+
+"Segovia has a Roman aqueduct which is one of the most remarkable of its
+kind in the world. It is sometimes called the Devil's Bridge, because a
+legend tells that Satan built it in a single night.
+
+"There is also the famous Alcazar, an ancient castle set high upon a
+sharp cliff. It was built in the eleventh century by King Alfonso VI.
+Besides these marvels, Segovia has many fine churches and castles and
+cathedrals.
+
+"How do I, a mere bonnet, know all these things? Ah, let me tell you
+this: I am not only very handsome; I am extremely wise."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Next day Pilar brought Juan these souvenirs. But it was of no use. Juan
+would not have any of them. He shook his head and told Pilar that he
+could not rob her of her wonderful treasures.
+
+"You must bring me the old castanets, child," he said. "They are all
+that I will take."
+
+Pilar begged and coaxed, but Juan was very stubborn.
+
+"No, child," he repeated, "These are too fine and valuable to sell.
+Bring me the battered old castanets, for they have little value."
+
+Poor Pilar! She now sat weeping in her room--weeping silently so as not
+to disturb her sick grandfather, who slept a great part of the day.
+
+She held the castanets in her hands and looked at them tenderly. Juan
+had said that they possessed little value. Oh, but they did possess
+value to Pilar, for she loved them.
+
+As to their real value, neither Pilar nor Juan could possibly guess. For
+though the other souvenirs might bring more in money, the castanets
+might well bring joy or grief to their owner. Or, at least, so it had
+seemed to Pilar's ancestors.
+
+However, Pilar had given her word to Juan that she would bring them to
+his shop tomorrow, and so she must. If only Juan had heard the terrible
+tale of the castanets in old Granada (gr[.a]-nä´d[.a]), he would not
+have held Pilar to her promise.
+
+[Illustration: GYPSIES, GRANADA]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+IN OLD GRANADA
+
+(A LEGEND OF THE CASTANETS)
+
+
+Catalina was the many-times-great-granddaughter of Lira, the plump
+little girl of ancient Cadiz. And to Catalina now belonged the magic
+castanets.
+
+The Moors had taken Spain away from the savage Visigoths and had built
+wonderful cities, palaces, and fortresses. One of these palaces was the
+magnificent Alhambra, set high upon a hill above the city of Granada.
+
+It was here that Catalina danced before Boabdil (b[=o]´äb-d[=e]l´),
+Arab ruler of the great Alhambra. And to the romantic young girl this
+beautiful "Red Castle" spelled fairy-land.
+
+[Illustration: GENERALIFE GARDENS, ALHAMBRA]
+
+She loved its sheltered courts, its walls of brightly colored tiles, its
+patios of cypress trees and tinkling fountains. She loved the stately
+arches, the graceful columns, and she also loved a handsome young Moor
+named Hamet. He was a soldier in Boabdil's army.
+
+But while Catalina lived in a dream of happiness, all was not so perfect
+with the Moorish ruler, Boabdil. The Christian monarchs, Ferdinand and
+Isabella, had reconquered the kingdom of Granada.
+
+One night after Catalina had danced in one of the great halls, she met
+Hamet in the Court of the Myrtles. The moon shone down upon a crystal
+clear pool, and birds flew about the court like fluttering ghosts.
+
+The two young people lowered their voices as they spoke. Hamet told
+Catalina of desperate battles in which the Moors were being overthrown
+by the Christians. He seemed much disturbed.
+
+Finally he said, "Let us go where none can hear us. I have something
+strange and terrible to tell you."
+
+He led her out upon a balcony where they stood looking down upon the
+city of Granada. Its little white, square fairy cubicles seemed to be
+lit up with stars that fell down from the sky.
+
+"It has been said," began Hamet in a low tone, "that the court
+astrologer predicted the downfall of the kingdom under the reign of
+Boabdil!"
+
+Catalina shrank back. What if her Hamet were to be taken away from her?
+This was all she could think of, and the thought tortured her. She did
+not consider the fate of her people. She considered only herself and
+what she would do, were Hamet to leave her.
+
+A short time later, Granada did indeed fall before the Christian rulers.
+And upon that fateful day when the palace was seized, Hamet was obliged
+to ride away from Granada with Boabdil, his leader.
+
+Outside of the city, the vanquished Boabdil handed the keys of Granada
+to King Ferdinand. Then he and his followers rode off into the hills.
+The story goes that as they reached a certain hill, Boabdil stopped to
+gaze down upon his beloved "Red Castle," which he would never see again.
+And the Moor wept.
+
+His mother chided him, saying, "You do well to weep like a woman for
+what you failed to defend like a man."
+
+The hill upon which this happened is still known as "The Last Sigh of
+the Moor."
+
+But to go back to Catalina at the palace. Left alone without Hamet, she
+did not sigh, nor did she weep. Oh, but she did storm and rage and stamp
+her feet.
+
+[Illustration: BOABDIL SURRENDERING TO FERDINAND]
+
+Catalina's temper was well known in the palace. When a servant came to
+summon her to dance before the new rulers, his knees shook with fright.
+
+"Fair d-dancer," he began, "w-will you c-come--?"
+
+"I will not!" screamed Catalina, and threw her shoe at him.
+
+Then the miserable girl sank down upon her couch and fell into a fit of
+weeping.
+
+At twilight, Catalina stood upon that same balcony where Hamet had told
+her what the court astrologer had predicted. All had come true, and the
+conquest of Granada marked the end of Moorish power in Spain.
+
+To Catalina came the voice of the town be-low. The Sierra Nevada
+Mountains raised their snowy tips, and the smell of little donkeys
+mingled with mountain perfumes.
+
+[Illustration: GRANADA]
+
+One star shone, Moor-like, in the deep blue heaven. There was a fringe
+of orange light where the sun had just gone to bed, leaving his rosy
+night robe hanging on the sky.
+
+But Catalina saw none of this beauty. Her eyes and her heart were blind
+with unreasonable rage. Fleeing from the balcony, she ran into the
+Myrtle Court.
+
+Raising her pale little face to the fast-darkening sky, she cried, "I
+shall never, never, never dance again!"
+
+With that, she threw her castanets into the deep pool in the center of
+the court. They sank quickly to the bottom, down, down in a black
+circle. The magic castanets!
+
+Not until several days later, when Catalina's temper had cooled, did she
+suddenly remember the old verse which her grandmother had taught her:
+
+    "_Castanets, with magic spell,
+    Never lose or give or sell;
+    If you do, then grief and strife
+    Will follow you through all your life._"
+
+What had she done? How could she have thrown away the magic castanets?
+
+Quickly Catalina returned to the Myrtle Court. A palace attendant
+promised to search the pool for her. But when he did, the castanets were
+nowhere to be found.
+
+The story goes that not until Catalina became a very old lady did she
+recover the castanets. And then nobody rightly knows how it came about.
+
+But what we do know is that never again did Catalina see her sweetheart.
+For a year after he had left her, Hamet was killed in the wars.
+
+If Catalina had not lost her temper, she would not have lost the magic
+castanets. And if she had not lost the magic castanets--well, would her
+story, perhaps, have been different?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+ANOTHER VISIT TO JUAN
+
+
+Several days passed before Pilar was able to leave her house and go to
+Juan's shop--several anxious days. Because that night, her grandfather
+had grown worse, and she had been obliged to call the doctor.
+
+The doctor had been coming every day since then, and Pilar could not
+leave her grandfather's side. Neighbors had been kind, helping with food
+and attentions.
+
+Now that her grandfather was better, Pilar realized that she must repay
+those good neighbors. So this morning, as soon as the burning Spanish
+sun arose, Pilar arose, too.
+
+She prepared her grandfather's breakfast and made him comfortable
+in his bed. Then she drank her thick, sweet chocolate, and off she went
+to Juan's shop, taking along the old wooden chest.
+
+Juan could not help smiling when he saw her enter, weighed down by her
+huge burden. It looked to Juan as if the big chest should really have
+been carrying the little girl.
+
+"Good morning, Señorita Pilar," he laughed. "And where is the chest
+taking you today?"
+
+Pilar did not smile. Resting the chest upon the counter, she said,
+"Grandfather has been very ill since last I saw you, Señor Juan."
+
+"Ah, I am sorry, child," said Juan.
+
+"But now he is much better," added Pilar more cheerfully, "And I have
+brought you what I promised."
+
+"The castanets?" asked Juan, looking at her shrewdly.
+
+"More than the castanets, Señor Juan," answered the little girl. "For
+they alone will not pay you for all the money I now need."
+
+She started to open the chest, and Juan started to shake his head. But
+Pilar caught his arm, and her large, dark eyes pleaded pitifully.
+
+"Oh, take them, please, Señor Juan!" she cried. "For I need a great deal
+of money! The doctor says that Grandfather will not be able to work for
+a long time."
+
+She pulled out of the chest the Damascene knife from Toledo, the tall
+comb from Barcelona, the faded fan from Valladolid, the ancient clock
+from El Escorial, and the saucy bonnet from Segovia.
+
+"Here, take them, please, señor," she said. "And also--" She put her
+hand inside the chest and drew out the magic castanets. "These, too,"
+she whispered, "for I promised."
+
+[Illustration: POTTERY SHOP, TRIANA]
+
+Juan looked at the old wooden clappers. Then he looked at Pilar. And
+quite abruptly he turned around to the strong box where he kept his
+money. He unlocked it and took out some paper bills.
+
+"Here, little Pilar," he said. "Here is the money for you and your
+grandfather. I shall keep the knife and the clock and the fan, the comb,
+and the bonnet. But--" He pushed away her hand which held the castanets.
+"Keep those, since you love them so much."
+
+Pilar clasped the castanets to her heart and her face lit up like a
+thousand candles.
+
+"Oh, Señor Juan!" she sighed. "You are so good!"
+
+Juan patted her shoulder.
+
+"It is all right, my child," he said. "And if, later on, you are in need
+of more money, bring me the castanets. I can sell them to a dancing
+master who would like to buy them. He is very fond of such antiques."
+
+Pilar did not answer right away. Then she said in a sober voice, "Before
+I give up the castanets, Señor Juan, I shall first bring you all the
+rest of my souvenirs. The castanets will be the very last to go. And how
+I hope that I shall never, never have to part with them!"
+
+[Illustration: COURT OF DOLLS, ALCAZAR]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+FOUR OLD PAINTINGS
+
+
+The Moors said, "Three times three things a woman must have: white skin,
+white teeth, and white hands; black eyes, black brows, and black lashes;
+rosy lips, rosy cheeks, and rosy nails."
+
+Little Pilar had all of these. She was a Spanish beauty. But she was not
+only beautiful; she was also useful. She could sew and cook and take
+care of a house.
+
+If you had asked Pilar how she had learned to sew and to cook and to
+take care of a house, she would have shrugged her shoulders and
+answered, "I did not learn. I just knew."
+
+She just knew, as she knew how to dance.
+
+[Illustration: PILAR]
+
+But poor Pilar had not been able to join her dancing companions in the
+gardens or the squares for many a day now. Her grandfather's health had
+not improved very much, and Pilar could seldom leave him.
+
+As time went on, Pilar watched the money which Juan had given her
+gradually disappear, and at last there was no more left. But fortunately
+there were still souvenirs left in the chest, and these Pilar took to
+Juan. Four of the remaining souvenirs were old paintings.
+
+When Juan saw them, he remarked, "These paintings are of four famous
+people. Let me tell you their stories."
+
+These are the stories he told:
+
+
+   _Luis de Leon of Salamanca_
+
+In the Middle Ages, when the University of Salamanca
+(s[)a]l´[.a]-m[)a]ng´k[.a]) was one of the finest in Europe, there lived
+a man named Luis de Leon. He was a friar. He was also one of Spain's
+great poets and a professor at the university.
+
+One day as Fray Luis de Leon was teaching his class, he was seized and
+thrown into prison. This was during the time of the inquisition, when
+people were arrested for their religious beliefs.
+
+Fray Luis remained in prison for many years. When he returned to
+Salamanca, everybody welcomed him, and all the important townspeople
+came to the university to hear him make a speech.
+
+But Fray Luis did not make a speech. He faced the schoolroom full of his
+pupils and others who had come to hear him, and, taking up the daily
+lesson, he remarked simply, "As we were saying yesterday--" just as if
+he had never been away!
+
+Salamanca sits upon the banks of the River Tormes (tôr´m[=a]s) across an
+old Roman bridge. It is a city of domes and spires, of quiet memories of
+art and culture.
+
+
+   _St. Teresa of Avila_
+
+Once upon a time, long, long ago, there lived in the town of Avila
+(ä´v[+e]-lä) a little girl named Teresa. Often Teresa would read stories
+to her brother. These stories were not about fairies, kings, and queens,
+nor even robbers. They were about saints.
+
+Little Teresa wished very much to become a saint and to live in heaven.
+So one day she and her brother set off for the country of the Moors.
+Their reason for doing this was because they thought that they might be
+beheaded.
+
+But this great pleasure was to be denied them. An uncle found them on
+the road and brought them home. It is a blessing that he did and that
+young Teresa was allowed to grow up. For she became a very holy woman,
+who did much good in the world.
+
+The city of Avila seems to breathe the holiness of St. Teresa. It is
+surrounded by a treeless desert and giant rocks. Its perfect Roman walls
+clasp it tightly as if to safeguard its mystery and charm.
+
+[Illustration: SALAMANCA]
+
+Do you hear the ding-donging bells of the many churches? They carry one
+off to dreamland. Do you hear the clink-clinking hoofs of the tiny
+donkeys? They carry hens and roosters to market in crates upon their
+backs. Avila is an old-fashioned town.
+
+
+   _The Cid of Valencia_
+
+"Godfather, please give me a colt. You have so many. You will never miss
+one."
+
+Rodrigo de Bivar (r[+o]-dr[=e]´g[=o] de bevär´) stood in the paddock
+beside his godfather, Don Pedro, a priest of Burgos (b[=oo]r´g[=o]s).
+They were watching the horses, mares, and their colts running wild.
+How free and beautiful they were, with their lovely manes flowing in
+the breeze!
+
+"You may choose the best for yourself, godson," said Don Pedro.
+
+Young Rodrigo's keen eyes followed each graceful young horse as it
+passed. But he said nothing. He said nothing until an ugly, shaggy
+little animal came by.
+
+Then he cried out, "This is the one I want, godfather!"
+
+His godfather gave him a look of disgust.
+
+"Babieca! (babie´ca) (Foolish one!)" he scolded. "This is indeed a
+stupid choice!"
+
+[Illustration: ST. TERESA CONVENT, AVILA]
+
+Rodrigo was not dismayed. Smiling, he said, "Babieca shall be my horse's
+name!"
+
+It was this same Babieca, or Booby, who carried Rodrigo de Bivar through
+his many famous battles. It was Babieca, too, who is supposed to have
+wept over his master when the great warrior-lord died.
+
+For young Rodrigo became Spain's most celebrated hero, the Cid, about
+whom songs have been sung and tales have been spun. Many of these are,
+of course, only romance and legend. But the Cid did indeed live and
+triumph.
+
+One of his greatest victories was the conquest of that rich and
+beautiful city, Valencia (v[.a]-l[)e]n´sh[)i]-[.a]), which is still
+called Valencia del Cid.
+
+
+   _Columbus of--Where?_
+
+"Please, a little food and shelter. We are very hungry and tired!"
+
+The man was Christopher Columbus, and the child, Diego, his son. Weary
+and discouraged, they had arrived at the monastery of La Rabita.
+
+For a long time, Christopher Columbus had been trying to interest the
+Spanish court in his scheme to sail across the unknown ocean. He
+thought that by sailing west he would reach Asia.
+
+But the King and Queen were busy with their struggles against the Moors,
+and they would not listen to him.
+
+The kind monks at the monastery of La Rabita sheltered Columbus and his
+little son. They also gave heed to his eager hopes and plans, and at
+last Prior Perez of the monastery wrote a letter to Queen Isabella.
+
+As we well know, Queen Isabella made it possible for Christopher
+Columbus to sail across the ocean and discover America. But nobody yet
+has really discovered Christopher Columbus.
+
+Where was he born? Some say in Italy, others, in northern Spain. Perhaps
+Columbus was a Jew who changed his religion and nationality. This could
+well have been, because at that time the Jews in Spain were being
+tortured and sent away from their country.
+
+When Columbus returned from his famous voyage, he was received in
+Barcelona by King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella. They made him Lord High
+Admiral of the Ocean Sea and Hereditary Viceroy of the New World.
+
+But after the death of the Queen, Columbus was badly treated by King
+Ferdinand, and he died in poverty and despair at a miserable inn.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Juan had finished telling the stories about the four paintings,
+Pilar asked, "Will you buy them from me, Señor Juan?"
+
+Juan answered, "Yes, if you really must sell them, Pilar. But I wish
+that you might keep them, for they are very fine."
+
+"I need the money," said Pilar simply.
+
+"Then why not let me sell those ugly castanets?" inquired Juan. "The
+dancing master will willingly pay for them."
+
+"No, no!" cried Pilar. "They shall be the last to go."
+
+So Juan took the four paintings and gave Pilar money for them. And now
+there remained in the wooden chest only three souvenirs. One was a
+bottle of old wine, one a small dagger, and one the magic castanets.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+FIESTA
+
+
+Fiestas (fy[)e]s´täs) (festivals) and fairs are the joy of the Spanish
+people. Some are held upon saints' days. In Spain one celebrates the
+birthday of the saint for whom one is named.
+
+Tonight there was a fiesta in Triana, which is across the bridge from
+Seville. It is where the gypsies live.
+
+Pilar was on her way to Triana with a group of her friends. She was
+dressed in her dancing costume. She wanted to dance and use her magic
+castanets. This would be the last time she could do so. For of all her
+mother's souvenirs, only the castanets were now left. And tomorrow--
+
+[Illustration: PILAR IN HER COSTUME]
+
+But Pilar did not like to think about that tomorrow. Juan had sold
+everything else out of the wooden chest. Everything else had gone, even
+the wooden chest itself--gone to pay for food and medicines.
+
+He had sold the very old bottle of sherry wine, which had come from a
+well-known cellar of Jerez (h[+a]-r[=a]th´), once called Scheriz.
+
+In this cellar there is a cluster of huge barrels, upon which are
+written noted names, such as the Prince of Wales' and our own
+President's. They contain wines made in the year of each person's birth.
+
+A family of well-trained mice lives in this cellar. When the attendant
+rings a bell and scatters bread upon the floor, these tiny creatures run
+out from behind the barrels.
+
+Juan had also sold the small dagger of Moorish design. It had come from
+the town of Cordoba (kôr´d[+o]-vä), once an important center. The famous
+Mosque of Cordoba, with its striped arches, was built by the Moors. But
+it has since been made into a Christian church.
+
+King Charles V is supposed to have said to the Christian builders, "You
+have built what can be found anywhere, but you have spoiled what cannot
+be found anywhere else.
+
+[Illustration: THE MOSQUE, CORDOBA]
+
+Cordoba is a white city of twisting streets. There are golden knobs upon
+some of the doors; ragged beggars fill the streets; and children seem to
+grow in doorways.
+
+One sees in Cordoba those broad-brimmed hats which belong to that part
+of Spain called Andalucia (än´dä-l[=oo]-th[=e]´ä).
+
+[Illustration: ANDALUSIAN HAT]
+
+A legend tells how Andalucia received its name. Every saint in heaven
+had been given a spot over which to rule--every one, except poor little
+Saint Lucia. So she searched the world for a country, but most of the
+world had already been taken by other saints.
+
+One day, however, she came to a land of sunshine and flowers, with which
+she was delighted. She asked if she might have it for her own, and a
+mysterious voice answered and said to her, "Anda, Lucia! (Go there,
+Lucia!)"
+
+And that is why, the legend tells, this sunny part of Spain is called
+Andalucia.
+
+Seville, too, is in Andalucia; and now let us go back to Seville and to
+Pilar.
+
+Tonight Pilar had left her grandfather for the first time in many
+evenings. A neighbor had kindly offered to stay with him while she went
+to the fiesta. Pilar's heart had been crying out for music and dancing.
+
+Across the bridge, over the Guadalquivir (gwä´d[)a]l-kw[)i]v´[~e]r)
+River, went the crowd of young people. They passed the Torre del Oro
+(tôr´r[+a] d[)e]l [=o]´r[=o]) (Tower of Gold), where treasure once was
+stored.
+
+In Triana there are many pottery shops; also there is a large American
+olive factory. It is said that the best olives are grown in sight of the
+Giralda Tower, which is in Seville.
+
+At the fiesta, music and song filled the air. Lanterns were strung from
+poles. Booths lined the square. Nuts and fruits and cakes were sold.
+There were small wagons where men fried long, golden cakes like the
+doughnut.
+
+[Illustration: A FIELD NEAR CORDOBA]
+
+Shawls, laces, paintings, toys, and fans for sale. Merry-go-rounds,
+sideshows, dancing, and more dancing. Pilar and her friends whirled
+about, kicking their legs, pointing their toes, rolling their eyes, and
+rippling their castanets.
+
+At last, tired, but filled with rhythm and harmony, the group started
+for home.
+
+After Pilar had left the fiesta, however, somebody asked about her. That
+somebody was a great dancing master.
+
+He asked, "Who was that little beauty in the white costume trimmed with
+green? She played a pair of golden-voiced castanets. Where does she
+live? I should like to have her as my pupil."
+
+[Illustration: A DOUGHNUT STAND]
+
+But nobody in Triana knew where Pilar lived, and, of course, her name is
+a common one in Spain.
+
+On the way home, Pilar's spirits began to fall. She began to think of
+having to part with her precious castanets. How she wished that there
+might be some other way of--!
+
+Suddenly she remembered Tony--Tony, the boy who had played bullfight
+with Juan years ago. It was weeks now since Juan had sent the old red
+cape to America and had written to Tony.
+
+Juan had said that Tony was rich and generous and that he would help
+Pilar and her grandfather because he would remember Pilar's mother. But
+Pilar had begun to wonder whether Tony really would.
+
+When she reached home, all the excitement of the fiesta had worn away.
+She was very unhappy. Tomorrow she must give up the castanets. Juan had
+said that he could sell them to a dancing master, who paid handsomely
+for antiques.
+
+Pilar started to undress. She unpinned the brooch that fastened her
+costume at the throat. And all at once, her face lit up with a wonderful
+new idea.
+
+She would take this brooch to Juan tomorrow. It was her own, part of her
+dancing costume. But she would far rather part with it than with her
+mother's castanets.
+
+The brooch was a small painting called a miniature. It was the likeness
+of young Prince Alfonso, the brother of Queen Isabella of Spain.
+
+Pilar hurried off to bed. And while she sleeps, let us listen to the
+"Mystery of the Young Prince."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+THE MYSTERY OF THE YOUNG PRINCE
+
+
+Alfonso was only a boy. But some day he would be king, for he was next
+in line to his brother, King Henry. After him came his sister, Isabella,
+a beautiful little girl, earnest and thoughtful.
+
+Alfonso felt himself to be Isabella's knight and protector. He had
+learned to ride and to use his sword like a true Spanish cavalier.
+
+One day at twilight Isabella sat at the window, embroidering a Moorish
+design upon a bit of gold cloth. Alfonso, his studies over for the day,
+was reading to her.
+
+Better than anything else, the Prince loved to read--which may have been
+the reason for what happened later--at least, for what is supposed to
+have happened. For nobody rightly knows the truth of the bitter story.
+
+As the two children sat together, enjoying the happiest moment of their
+day, one of the King's spies secretly watched and listened.
+
+He heard the Princess Isabella say, "Enough of that for now, Alfonso.
+Come. Read my favorite book."
+
+Alfonso put down the book which he had been reading, and the spy noted
+well its title, "The Odyssey ([)o]d´[)i]-s[)i])." He also had noted
+something else. Always before the Prince turned a page, he first
+moistened his finger with his tongue.
+
+Squinting his eyes, the spy smiled wickedly to himself and stole away.
+
+Several nights later, this same spy crept into the Prince's chamber
+and, feeling cautiously about, he at last found what he sought. It was a
+book, "The Odyssey."
+
+Working with agile fingers, he opened the book, and upon each page he
+smeared a deadly poison. Then he returned the book to its place and left
+the room as quietly as he had entered.
+
+Now trouble and discontent filled the country. Some of the people were
+not pleased with King Henry, and they wanted to place young Alfonso upon
+the throne.
+
+The Prince and his sister began to live through turbulent times, and
+their peaceful hours together were over. Alfonso was thrown into prison,
+then suddenly freed again, to become an important figure in the kingdom.
+
+He was told that soon he would be crowned king, for the rebels were
+going to overthrow his brother Henry. Whispered plans, secret schemes
+stirred in the air like poisonous insects. And the poisoned book lay
+where the spy had left it. The Prince found little time for reading.
+
+[Illustration: AVILA]
+
+But today he had managed to meet his sister, and the two were very happy
+to be together again for an hour of quiet reading.
+
+Alfonso picked up the book, "The Odyssey," but Isabella said, "No,
+not that one, Alfonso. Today let us hear this most interesting novel. It
+tells why the wind blows, why we smell and taste and hear, all in the
+form of a story."
+
+She smiled and handed him the other book. Good-naturedly Alfonso put
+down "The Odyssey." Had he but known it, he put from him death!
+
+Soon afterwards, the prince was again torn from his sister, this time to
+live through one of the most dramatic events in his stormy young life.
+
+One day a splendid procession made its way into the town of Avila. Among
+the cavaliers rode Prince Alfonso. His horse richly decked, he sat
+stiffly upon the saddle, clothed in armor. His boyish face was grave and
+stern.
+
+As he passed, the people cried out, "Long live King Alfonso!"
+
+A throne had been erected out upon the plains. On this throne sat what
+appeared to be a king. He held a scepter, and the crown upon his head
+gleamed brightly in the sun.
+
+But as the cavalcade drew closer, it was seen that the figure had fallen
+over on its side like a sawdust doll. And indeed, that is just what it
+was--a scarecrow, made to represent King Henry.
+
+The Prince and his followers stood upon the platform. A colorful crowd
+had gathered about them--monks in brown, monks in white and black, lords
+in bright-hued mantles, Moors with turbans on their heads, peasants,
+beggars, young and old.
+
+Bugles rang out, and drums rolled. The little Prince stood, proudly
+royal, in his armor. His blond hair showed under the visor which had
+been pushed back from his head.
+
+Then the Archbishop snatched the crown from the head of the scarecrow
+king and roared, "Thus lose the royal dignity which you have guarded
+ill."
+
+And one of the cavaliers roughly kicked the figure off its throne. There
+were cries and shouts and some gasps of horror. Alfonso was seated upon
+the throne and crowned King of Avila.
+
+Petty wars, robberies, and murders followed. Part of the country was in
+favor of King Henry, while the rebels supported Alfonso. A terrible
+battle took place in Toledo. Houses were burned and people massacred.
+
+A few days later, Alfonso arrived in the town.
+
+Those who had burned and massacred bowed down to the young king, saying,
+"We will fight for your cause if you will approve this massacre."
+
+[Illustration: PARK IN MADRID, STATUE OF KING ALFONSO]
+
+Alfonso replied, "God forbid that I should approve such horrors!"
+
+The next thing he knew, Alfonso's country was plunged into war. The
+rebels were to meet the King's men in conflict.
+
+The night before the battle Alfonso, rest-less and unhappy, paced his
+chamber. Why must men fight? Why must they kill one another? The Prince
+loved power; but better than power, he loved peace.
+
+Wherever he went, he always took along some of his books. Now upon the
+table lay several, and among them was "The Odyssey." Alfonso laid his
+hand upon his favorite work and was about to take it up when he let it
+fall again.
+
+No, he could not read tonight. His heart was too heavy. He missed his
+sister and, too, he kept thinking of their future--a stormy prospect.
+For Isabella no doubt would be forced to marry some distasteful noble.
+And he? With enemies upon all sides, if he were not killed in war, he
+might well be murdered in his sleep.
+
+Next day in full armor, his sword drawn, the boy King of Avila went out
+to meet his foe. Fighting bravely, by his soldiers, it is said that he
+was last to leave the battle.
+
+[Illustration: BURGOS CATHEDRAL]
+
+There came a time when Alfonso set forth upon a journey, accompanied by
+a group of nobles. Among his traveling companions were several of the
+King's followers, one of them that same spy who had smeared poison upon
+the leaves of Alfonso's book.
+
+As evening overtook the party of travelers, they drew rein in the town
+of Cardenosa, and planned to stop there for the night.
+
+As usual, Alfonso had brought along his books. But too often had his
+enemies been disappointed, so now they planned a trick. It was a trick
+which would force the Prince into their cruel trap.
+
+They removed all but one of Alfonso's books from his chamber. The one
+left was placed in plain view upon the table. It was "The Odyssey."
+
+Wondering what had become of the others, but too weary to find out, the
+Prince settled himself to read before retiring for the night. As he
+opened the book he smiled, remembering Isabella and how she had always
+urged him to read something else.
+
+Well, tonight he might do as he pleased, for he was quite alone. Tonight
+he might read "The Odyssey," which he had not opened for so long.
+
+Page after page he turned with a finger moistened by his tongue. And an
+hour passed.
+
+Late during the night, a messenger rode madly into the town of Segovia
+where the Princess Isabella was living.
+
+"The King of Avila is dying!" the messenger gasped. "He calls for his
+sister, the Princess Isabella!"
+
+Isabella rode furiously through the night and when she reached
+Cardenosa, she was met by the Archbishop of Toledo. He held out his hand
+to her, and in his face there was pity and grief. Before he even told
+her, Isabella knew that her beloved brother was dead.
+
+[Illustration: MIRAFLORES MONASTERY, BURGOS]
+
+Some claimed that enemies had given him poisoned fish. Others believed
+that he had died of a fever. Still others told the story which you have
+just heard. But whether or not it is true will remain a mystery forever.
+
+There is a wonderful cathedral in Burgos, whose Gothic spires point
+upward like lace fingers. They point to a hill above the city, upon
+which rests the Miraflores Chapel.
+
+Inside this chapel is a beautiful statue of a boy. He wears a royal
+mantle and kneels before a praying desk. The boy is Alfonso.
+
+When Henry died, it was the earnest little Isabella who became queen.
+Today in the Cathedral of Granada--that white and gold and silver
+cathedral--are the tombs of Queen Isabella and her husband, King
+Ferdinand.
+
+They are carved of marble, and Isabella's pillow sinks down deeper than
+Ferdinand's with the weight of her head. They say that this is because
+her head held more brains than his.
+
+We know she was a wise, good queen and we love her because she helped
+Christopher Columbus and listened to his dreams.
+
+[Illustration: TOMBS OF FERDINAND AND ISABELLA, GRANADA CATHEDRAL]
+
+But just suppose Alfonso had not died. Suppose, instead, that he had
+lived and ruled. Do you believe Alfonso would have listened to Columbus'
+dreams and understood as did his sister Isabella? And, had he not, where
+should we be today?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+A STOUT SWEETHEART
+
+
+The sale of the Prince Alfonso brooch brought Pilar and her grandfather
+enough to live on for a week. Then once more Pilar was faced with having
+to give up the castanets.
+
+Juan seemed eager to have them now. He said that the great dancing
+master had shown much interest in them.
+
+This dancing master was the same one who had inquired about Pilar at the
+fiesta that night in Triana, though Juan, of course, did not know it.
+
+At last the fatal day arrived when Pilar could no longer delay her visit
+to Juan's shop. What she would do after this last sale she had no idea.
+Unless her grandfather's health improved so that he might work again,
+things looked black for both of them.
+
+Pilar went out onto the balcony of her house. Girl-draped balconies are
+as natural in Spain as donkey-dotted roads and child-filled doorways.
+
+Pilar gazed down on the street. The morning was golden. Church bells
+clanged, and a knife grinder was piping on an Arab reed. A broom-maker
+squatted on the pavement across the way.
+
+Pilar's eyes were full of tears as she took up the castanets and went
+with them into her grandfather's room.
+
+"I am going out, Grandfather," she said.
+
+But she mentioned nothing about selling the castanets. She could not
+trust herself to speak. However, her grandfather saw them in her hands,
+and his old eyes brightened.
+
+[Illustration: GIRL-DRAPED BALCONIES]
+
+"Some day I shall tell you--stories--about--those--" he breathed. "Your
+mother--loved--them--"
+
+"Do not talk now, Grandfather. It will tire you," said Pilar.
+
+She wanted to be off, to have it all over with as quickly as possible.
+She knew that if her grandfather told her a story about the castanets,
+it would be even harder to part with them. Poor Pilar! If she had
+listened to just one of those legends, she would not have dared to sell
+the wooden clappers.
+
+"Good-bye, dear Grandfather."
+
+She kissed him and left.
+
+As she opened the gate that led out of the small court of their house,
+she ran into a stout, grinning boy.
+
+"Oh, Pepe!" cried Pilar. "When did you get back?"
+
+All summer Pepe had been away on a journey. Now here he was home again
+to follow and annoy Pilar.
+
+Pepe liked to make believe that he was a cavalier. He liked to imitate
+his older brothers. For in Spain a man courts his lady in a very
+romantic way. He stands outside her window at night, and sometimes he
+sings love songs to her.
+
+This funny, stout little Pepe often met Pilar at school and walked home
+with her. Once he had even tried to sing under her window. But a
+neighbor thought it was a tomcat howling and threw a bucket of water on
+his head.
+
+Today Pilar was in no mood to be followed about. Today was a bitter day
+in her life. For this time there was no more hope of keeping the
+castanets. She knew that at last she must really give them up to Juan.
+
+She started to walk on ahead of Pepe. But he followed her.
+
+He puffed as he jogged along behind her, calling out, "Wait for me,
+Pilar. I have much to tell you. I have been to far-away places. Ho!
+Listen, Pilar. I have been to Algeciras ([)a]l´j[+e]-s[=e]´r[.a]s)
+and to the Rock of Gibraltar."
+
+Pilar thought Pepe himself looked like the Rock of Gibraltar. She had
+seen pictures of the great, solid rock. It belongs to England, and just
+across Gibraltar Bay is the lazy little Spanish seaport town of
+Algeciras.
+
+Pilar usually liked to listen to Pepe's tales of his travels. The boy's
+father often took him away to places where they saw interesting and
+curious sights.
+
+[Illustration: GIBRALTAR]
+
+But today it was impossible to pay attention. She tried to get away from
+Pepe and walked faster and faster.
+
+He followed doggedly, breaking into a gallop and crying out in little
+gasps, "Hi! But listen, Pilar."
+
+And so eager was he to reach her that he did not notice where he was
+going, and all of a sudden--pff! bang! He had crashed into a man wearing
+what looked like a ballet skirt of tin cans. They were milk cans.
+
+They shot in all directions. The man began to scold Pepe and to wave his
+arms about. A crowd gathered, and in the noise and excitement, Pilar
+escaped from her stout little sweetheart.
+
+Seville's great cathedral was just across the street--a massive giant,
+squatting in the sun. Pilar went inside. It was cool and peaceful there.
+Works of art filled the vast church--paintings, fine carvings, and the
+stately tomb of Christopher Columbus.
+
+Pilar knelt before the altar, where a curious ceremony takes place every
+year. This ceremony is called "The Dance of the Six Boys."
+
+Pilar prayed, her eyes closed, her lips moving. And clasped to her
+heart were the castanets--the magic castanets, about which another
+legend was woven--a legend around this very Dance of the Six.
+
+[Illustration: ALHAMBRA]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+DANCE OF THE SIX
+
+(A LEGEND OF THE CASTANETS)
+
+
+The chorus had been sung, and now they were dancing to the steady,
+clicking rhythm of their castanets. It was a dignified dance, done by
+young boys wearing silken pages' costumes and wide, plumed hats.
+
+Everybody felt the solemn beauty of the ceremony, and a hushed reverence
+had fallen over the cathedral. Two old people, a woman with a black
+shawl thrown over her head and an old man with a tanned, leathery face,
+sat silently weeping.
+
+Fernando, their son, moved among those graceful figures beneath the
+altar. He was a part of the royal Dance of the Six, called the
+Sevillana.
+
+How proud were these old people of their son Fernando! How happy to know
+that, each year, he would take his place in this age-old ceremony of
+their forefathers, in the dance which had been performed for centuries
+in Seville's cathedral!
+
+For in the far distant past, the Pope, hearing about the Sevillana,
+wished to see for himself what sort of dance it was. In those days, it
+would have been considered shocking for girls to dance before the Pope.
+So six boys were taught the steps of the Sevillana and taken to the
+Vatican in Rome.
+
+Here they danced, dressed in their beautiful silken costumes. The Pope
+was so well pleased that he granted permission to use this dance during
+certain ceremonies at the cathedral. But the privilege was to last only
+so long as the boys' costumes lasted.
+
+[Illustration: DANCE OF THE SIX, SEVILLE CATHEDRAL]
+
+Today these costumes are still in use. But what a deal of patching and
+mending must have taken place during those hundreds of years!
+
+When the dance was over, Fernando went into his room and pulled off his
+quaint, plumed hat. The reverent little dancer had changed to a furious,
+red-faced youth. He threw the hat down on the floor in a fit of anger.
+
+"Never!" he cried. "Never will I dance it again!"
+
+His sister Maria stood trembling at the door.
+
+"Do not say that, Fernando," she begged. "Think of our parents. You
+would break their hearts were you never to dance in the cathedral again.
+These past three days have been for them the happiest of their lives."
+
+"I shall never dance again," repeated Fernando firmly. "It is girls'
+work, and I am a boy. I shall run away and work with men--and be a man!"
+
+Fernando picked up his castanets, which had fallen to the floor.
+
+"Miguel will take my place in the chorus," he said. "I shall have no
+more use for these castanets, and so I shall give them--"
+
+"No! No!" cried Fernando's sister. She ran over to him and caught him by
+the arm. "You must never give away those castanets. Surely you have
+heard about their magic power and the legends attached to them. Ill luck
+to him who loses or gives away--"
+
+"Nonsense!" scoffed Fernando. "I do not believe such tales. They are old
+women's twaddle!"
+
+"Perhaps," agreed his sister. "Yet remember what our grandmother
+once told us. She said that the castanets have always been a power for
+good. And whenever we do things which we should not do, they bring
+misfortune to us and to our family."
+
+Then she recited:
+
+    "_Castanets, with magic spell,
+    Never lose or give or sell;
+    If you do, then grief and strife
+    Will follow you through all your life._"
+
+"Yes, I know," said Fernando shortly. "But," and he grinned, "I shall
+change that verse to:
+
+    '_Castanets, you have no spell;
+    If I lose or give or sell,
+    I shall live in manly strife,
+    Not be a sissy all my life!_'"
+
+One night many years later, this same Fernando, now a man, glided
+along in a boat on a river near the border of France. With him were
+several other men, and all of them were smugglers.
+
+Fernando had long lived in the Pyrenees (p[)i]r´[+e]-n[=e]z) Mountains.
+He had joined a band of people who secretly smuggled forbidden goods
+from Spain to France in the dead of night. They led a dangerous life
+and were always in fear of the customs men.
+
+As their boat now moved gently along the water, Fernando's companions
+slept. All night they had labored, and they were weary. But Fernando
+could not sleep. Somehow his thoughts kept taking him to Seville, to his
+parents and his sister Maria. What had become of them?
+
+In all these years he had heard no word from them, and until now, he had
+barely given them a thought. But tonight--How strange that they should
+creep into his mind!
+
+A shot rang out hideously. The customs men were after them! Another
+shot! And another and another! One by one, the smugglers in the little
+boat crumpled where they sat. Then the small craft itself began to
+sink--down, down.
+
+All was silent upon the surface of the water. All was silent for a long
+time, and then Fernando, holding to a floating board, slowly raised his
+head.
+
+The morning had begun to dawn over the Spanish Pyrenees. A hoarse church
+bell rang out. Fernando looked about him. The customs' men had gone back
+to France. The smugglers, too, had gone, but not to France; to the
+bottom of the river.
+
+Fernando swam to shore, and the next day he set off for Seville. He had
+one aim: to find his family and to try to make up for the heartache he
+had caused them.
+
+But Fernando was never to see his parents again. Long since the old
+people had died, and only his sister Maria remained. He found her living
+in a poor and squalid alley. Yet when he walked into her shabby room,
+she did not seem in the least surprised to see him.
+
+"I knew that you would come back, Fernando," she said quietly. "I
+expected you."
+
+Puzzled, he started to speak, but she silenced him.
+
+Then thrusting her hand inside her blouse, she drew out the magic
+castanets, saying, "They were brought back to me, Fernando!"
+
+Fernando stood fixed to the spot, his eyes upon the old clappers, which
+he had given away so many years ago in a fit of boyish rage. Then a
+sudden curious idea occurred to him.
+
+"When were they returned to you?" he asked Maria.
+
+She told him, and he knew then that it had been upon the very same night
+when his life had been spared, out there upon those dangerous
+waters--the very same night when he had been thinking so earnestly of
+his family.
+
+His sister listened while he told her of his many adventures as a
+smuggler. He promised to give it all up, to help her, and to become an
+honest man.
+
+"For," he ended, laughing, "there is an old Basque saying, 'If a
+smuggler is an honest man, then legends are the truth.'"
+
+"But surely, Fernando," said his sister, "you must believe in the
+legends of the castanets after what has happened to us."
+
+Fernando shook his head.
+
+"I believe only in the power for good," he replied.
+
+Some years later, Fernando had a little son of his own who danced in
+the cathedral of Seville. And do you see those two old people who sit
+there watching, solemn-eyed and happy?
+
+They are Fernando and his wife, and they are very proud that their boy
+is taking his place in this age-old ceremony of their forefathers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+PILAR'S GRANDFATHER REMEMBERS
+
+
+After Pilar went out, her grandfather lay thinking. Somehow the old man
+felt better today. He did not fall asleep as soon as Pilar left the
+house.
+
+He began to wonder where she had gone and why she had taken the
+castanets with her. He knew that she had been obliged to sell many of
+her mother's souvenirs, so that they might live. But he hoped that soon
+he would be able again to provide for his granddaughter and himself.
+
+"Suppose Pilly has gone out to sell the castanets," he thought.
+
+The idea frightened him. Yet he tried to tell himself that he was just a
+foolish old man, to believe in a fairy tale about the charm of a pair
+of castanets.
+
+Still he could not help remembering the legends which had been handed
+down through his family.
+
+He lay dreaming, and before him passed the days when Pilar's mother had
+been young. Her name had been Carmen Pilar Innocentia Gonzales, but she
+had been known as "Carmen, the Little Spanish Dancer."
+
+As a little girl, she had been just such a graceful dancer as Pilar. And
+one day a great teacher from Madrid had seen her and had taken her away
+to study in the capital.
+
+But before that, she had spent much time on the streets of Seville. Her
+father could still see her playing there with her little friend Tony,
+who had lived next door.
+
+Tony and his comrades had often staged a bullfight. Tony would be the
+brave torero (t[+o]-r[=a]´r[=o]) or fighter, while all the neighbors
+would gather round to watch the sport.
+
+When Tony would plunge his make-believe sword into the make-believe
+bull, everyone would cheer loudly.
+
+[Illustration: BOYS PLAYING BULLFIGHT]
+
+Bullfighting is still Spain's favorite sport, though recently football
+has arrived there. The Spanish call it "fútbol," and it has become very
+popular.
+
+But Tony had always wanted to be a torero. Pilar's grandfather lay
+smiling as he thought of that same Tony, now a wealthy tobacco merchant
+living in America. He was far from being a bullfighter today.
+
+However, when Pilar's mother, Carmen, grew older, she had been courted
+by a young man who was a bullfighter. The memory of this young man
+brought to mind again the fear of losing the castanets.
+
+For Pilar's grandfather recalled a very real and dramatic story about
+Carmen and Pedro, the young torero.
+
+[Illustration: BULLFIGHT, MADRID]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+BULLFIGHT IN MADRID
+
+(A LEGEND OF THE CASTANETS)
+
+
+In the opera, "Carmen," a girl who works in a cigarette factory of
+Seville, is loved by a torero, or bullfighter.
+
+The Carmen of this story did not work in a cigarette factory. She was a
+dancer. But she, too, had an admirer who was a torero. His name was
+Pedro.
+
+In a few days Pedro was going to fight in a most important corrida, or
+bullfight, in the city of Madrid. He was going to fight a very fierce
+and savage bull. But, strange to say, Pedro did not want to kill that
+bull.
+
+Now, as a general rule, toreros would rather kill bulls than be killed
+by them, for which you cannot blame the toreros.
+
+In this case, however, it was different. Pedro's father had raised this
+great bull, Rey, and Pedro was very fond of the animal. In a few days he
+was expected to go into the arena and kill his pet.
+
+Often Pedro took his little friend Carmen to visit Rey, who lived in a
+field outside the city. Today they had come out for the last time before
+the famous bullfight was to take place.
+
+Both were very sad. Carmen, too, had grown to love Rey, and the big
+creature seemed fond of her.
+
+Sometimes the girl would practice upon her castanets out in the field.
+And always when Rey heard the clicking song of the instruments, he would
+come up close to the young couple and stand quietly listening.
+
+Do you wonder that this was a sorrowful day in the lives of Carmen and
+Pedro?
+
+"If only we could think of some way to save him!" sighed Carmen.
+
+She and Pedro sat upon a fence in the field. Around them rose mountains,
+hazy in the sun. Small stone houses cuddled among old scrub oak trees.
+
+Suddenly Pedro's eyes sparkled. "I have it!" he cried. "I have a plan!
+Do you remember the bull whose life was saved during a bullfight,
+because he came to his owner when he was called?"
+
+Carmen nodded. She remembered well. All Spain had heard of it.
+
+"Then why should not Rey, too, be given this chance?" asked Pedro. "Why
+should he not be spared if he answers a call?"
+
+"But who will call him?" asked Carmen.
+
+"You," answered Pedro. "You, with your castanets."
+
+"Like this," said Carmen, and she started to play.
+
+Softly she played, then more and more loudly, until the great bull
+appeared at the other end of the field. He stood looking at the boy and
+the girl and, all at once, he started toward them, like a big, friendly
+dog.
+
+"You see!" exclaimed Pedro joyfully. "Now on Sunday, when I am fighting
+with him in the arena, you, from the audience, will play your castanets
+as you just did. If he turns and goes to you, I am sure that the judges
+will spare his life."
+
+"This is a wonderful plan, Pedro," smiled the lovely little Carmen. "And
+I am certain that it will succeed, because, you see--" She hesitated for
+a moment. Then she continued, "Because these castanets are enchanted!"
+
+"Enchanted?" Pedro laughed. "That cannot be! Yet when you play them,
+it is I who am enchanted, my Carmen!"
+
+Carmen did not laugh, however. She looked down soberly at her castanets.
+
+"Legends are told in our family," she said, "about the magic power of
+these castanets. Whenever one of us has lost or sold or given them away,
+misfortune has overtaken us."
+
+Whereupon, she recited this verse:
+
+    "_Castanets, with magic spell,
+    Never lose or give or sell;
+    If you do, then grief and strife
+    Will follow you through all your life._"
+
+"Then whatever happens, do not lose them before next Sunday," warned
+Pedro, smiling.
+
+As the young couple arose to go, Carmen gave a start.
+
+"Did you see a figure sneak out from behind that tree and
+disappear?" she asked Pedro.
+
+"No, I did not," he answered. "And you are full of mystery today, little
+Carmen!" He was laughing at her again. "Come. Let us go home now before
+you see a ghost."
+
+But Carmen had been right. There had indeed been a figure behind that
+tree--someone with very sharp ears, who had listened to all they had
+said.
+
+He was no mystery--this figure--but a very real person. He was another
+torero, jealous of Pedro, who had won the love of Carmen--jealous, too,
+because Pedro had won popularity as a fighter, while he had not.
+
+Carmen thought she recognized this man. Yet she was not altogether sure,
+and on the way home, Pedro talked her out of her fears.
+
+Happily they started toward Madrid, unaware of the terrible plan which
+this jealous torero was beginning to lay.
+
+[Illustration: MADRID]
+
+On they drove through a flat land of many vineyards. They passed small
+white houses with tiled hats on, and a village cut out of the landscape
+by a lazy hand and colored carelessly. Soon they entered Madrid.
+
+Madrid is a modern city of tram cars and toots and traffic. In the
+summer time, Madrid is like a faded, old duchess, who clicks her fan and
+squats in the sun. She is dressed in handsome plazas, fountains, and
+parks.
+
+But should you chance to walk into a narrow side street, you might catch
+Madrid in her alley mood. Then she is a simple peasant.
+
+Madrid is the capital, center, and heart of Spain. Pedro, the torero,
+had lived there all his life. But little Carmen had only recently
+arrived in the big city.
+
+Upon the Sunday of Pedro's great bullfight, Carmen awoke early. Her
+heart pounded with excitement. Today she and her magic castanets were to
+try to save the life of Pedro's beloved Rey.
+
+But suppose Rey would not listen to her? Suppose he would not come to
+her when she played? The noisy arena would be far different from the
+quiet fields where she was accustomed to calling him. He would be
+frightened, furious, and fierce.
+
+Bullfights do not start until four o'clock in the afternoon. Then the
+sun is getting ready to go to bed, and Spaniards are getting up from
+their siestas, or naps.
+
+Carmen drove to the bullfight with Pedro's mother.
+
+As they passed the Prado (prä´d[=o]), Madrid's beautiful art gallery,
+Carmen thought, "This Prado is a heaven of art, while the corrida,
+only a few blocks away, is a hades of suffering!"
+
+She began to worry. And what girl would not have worried? For no matter
+how brave a torero may be, it is never certain that he will come out of
+the arena alive. Why, even Rey, his own pet, might today take Pedro's
+life!
+
+[Illustration: _From a Painting by Goya_
+DOÑA ISABEL CORBO DE PORCEL]
+
+Trough the many fine streets of Madrid they drove, and at last they
+reached the bull ring. Crowds were swarming in through the gates of the
+big, round arena. Carmen and Pedro's mother, silent and sad-faced, made
+their way to their box.
+
+The old lady wore a tall comb in her hair and a lace mantilla over it.
+She opened her fan with a click and started to fan herself. Carmen did
+the same, as, indeed, everyone else was doing. The sun had been very
+slow about going to bed.
+
+Over on the opposite side of the arena, the poor people sat in the sun,
+because those seats were cheaper. There was an air of excitement. The
+band played the "Toreador's (t[)o]r´[+e]-ä-dôr´) Song" from "Carmen,"
+and then the fight began.
+
+There were five toreros and five bulls before Pedro's turn came. Pedro
+was to be last on the program.
+
+Everything seemed to swim before Carmen's eyes during the performances
+of these other men and bulls. The whole thing was a sea of fluttering
+fans, sickly blue light, and waving red cloaks.
+
+Then at last Pedro entered the ring. How big and handsome he looked in
+his colorful costume! He carried the red cape with which he was going to
+tease the bull.
+
+But before that time, the bull would first be angered by men with sharp
+sticks and by other men on horseback.
+
+Look! The gate is swinging open now, and here is Rey! Snorting, rolling
+his fine eyes, the magnificent creature gallops into the center of the
+arena and stands, bewildered.
+
+Suddenly Carmen cannot look to see her dear friend tortured. She hides
+her eyes, her delicate little white hands held in front of her face.
+
+But when she hears the crowd yelling, "Pedro! Pedro! Olé! Olé!" she
+knows that she must uncover her eyes, for soon it will be her turn to
+act.
+
+A cry from the crowd. The bull has charged and has caught young Pedro by
+the coat. But Pedro is quick. He finds his feet and twists himself to
+safety. The crowd cheers loudly.
+
+Backward and forward he dances like a graceful reed, playing with the
+great beast, and the crowd are wild at his skill. Some throw their hats
+into the ring.
+
+But Carmen sees the fury and the pain in Rey's eyes. He is wounded. He
+is frantic. She knows that now her turn has really come and she must
+call to him with her castanets. There is no time to lose.
+
+[Illustration: BULLFIGHT, MADRID]
+
+Oh, will he remember those peaceful fields and come to her when she
+plays? For if he does, it has been arranged that he shall live.
+
+But should he not, the end must be the same with Rey as with every other
+bull in every other fight. Pedro will have to plunge a dagger into the
+head of his friend.
+
+"Oh, let us win!" prays little Carmen, and she opens her bag where she
+keeps her castanets.
+
+The magic castanets are gone!
+
+For a moment the world turns around in a crazy whirl. Fear clutches
+sharply at Carmen's heart. The beast is blind with rage. Soon Pedro will
+be obliged to make the final dagger thrust or--!
+
+What must Pedro think? That she, his faithful little Carmen, has
+betrayed him and Rey?
+
+Where are the castanets? Carmen knows well that she brought them with
+her. Someone has stolen them.
+
+Suddenly Carmen remembers the figure she saw behind the tree that day in
+the meadow.
+
+Down there, close to the fence, she sees the same man! It is the jealous
+torero.
+
+He passes by, his set face wickedly content, and to Carmen's keen ears
+comes a familiar sound. From the man's pocket, faint, yet unmistakable,
+she hears the click of her castanets.
+
+Carmen is out of her seat, past the guards, and inside that dangerous
+arena. A gasp goes through the audience--a horrified shudder. But
+Carmen, her black eyes snapping, is as dangerous now as any wild bull.
+
+She has caught the man by the arm, swung him around, and snatched from
+his pocket her castanets.
+
+Now she stands very still. With her small body drawn up straight and
+taut, she begins to play.
+
+Pedro is fighting desperately. But everybody knows that soon it must be
+man or beast. The torero must kill or be killed. The audience is
+breathless.
+
+Carmen's castanets sing shrilly, with a rolling trill, and, all at once,
+Rey lifts his massive head and listens. The call is sweet. It speaks to
+him of pleasant things.
+
+What shall he do? Obey that call and follow? Or shall he stay and fight
+it out with all his sharp-horned strength until the end?
+
+A frenzied murmur issues from the crowd. Slowly the people rise together
+in their seats, as if a mountain heaved. The bull has turned and now
+begins to trot toward Carmen's side.
+
+A woman shrieks. Another faints. But proudly Carmen stands, bringing
+magic rhythm out of her magic castanets. And then she starts to walk
+away, her wooden clappers coaxing like the Piper's reed and urging Rey
+to follow her.
+
+He does. The huge beast, like a docile dog, allows the girl with her
+charm-sound, to lead him out of the arena--out of death and into life.
+
+Little Carmen has won.
+
+[Illustration: THE PRADO, MADRID]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+WHERE IS PILAR?
+
+
+When Pilar left the cathedral, she hurried toward the Street of the
+Serpents. She would have to be quick. It was growing late, and her
+grandfather would be waiting for her.
+
+As soon as she had sold the castanets to Juan, she would shop at the
+market. Then she would go home and cook the dinner.
+
+She made herself think of the good things she would cook. But her eyes
+filled with tears. How could she think of eating when her precious
+castanets were soon to be gone?
+
+Besides, what would she and her grandfather live on, after this money
+was spent? Would they be obliged to ask for charity? Pilar shuddered.
+
+The sound of a hurdy-gurdy came from the Murillo Garden as she passed.
+She remembered how she used to dance there every evening before her
+grandfather had become ill.
+
+Her friends were dancing there now--all of them: Maria, Guadalupe,
+Teresa--yes, even Baby Dolores, happy, carefree, whirling about in their
+dance.
+
+They had no troubles. They could stay out, dancing, singing, playing as
+long as they pleased.
+
+She would join them. She must dance just once more to her golden-voiced
+castanets--just once more before she gave them up to Juan!
+
+Pilar entered the garden.
+
+Meanwhile, at home Pilar's grandfather awoke. He had been dreaming. He
+had dreamed of that eventful bullfight when his daughter Carmen had
+saved the life of Pedro's bull, Rey.
+
+Carmen had later married Pedro, and Pilar was their child. But both had
+passed away, leaving their little girl in the old man's care.
+
+What was keeping Pilar now? Where had she gone, and what was taking her
+such a long time?
+
+Her grandfather began to worry. He raised himself on the pillow. Dusk
+had fallen. The room was growing dark. Yet he could discern a white
+object lying on the floor just inside the door. Why, it looked like a
+letter. But few letters ever arrived at this house. Still it was a
+letter!
+
+Oh, if Pilar would only come home! She had never been so late before.
+
+"Suppose," he thought, "she has sold the magic castanets, and something
+terrible has happened to her! Suppose--"
+
+[Illustration: TOLEDO]
+
+But he quickly laughed at his foolish fears, and just then the door
+swung open and Pilar burst in.
+
+She was weeping bitterly, her arm flung across her eyes. She threw
+herself down beside her grandfather's bed, sobs shaking her.
+
+At first it was difficult to understand what she said, but gradually the
+words swam out thickly through her tears, "Oh, I--I have done
+a--terrible th-thing--"
+
+A flood of sobs broke through and drowned the rest. Her grandfather laid
+a gentle hand upon her head.
+
+"There, Pilly dear," he said. "Do not cry, and tell me everything. Look
+up, child, and see. Your old grandfather is better tonight, and soon he
+will be quite well again. Are you not glad?"
+
+This made Pilar raise her head. Her grandfather was speaking to her just
+as he had done before he had been taken so ill. It was true then that
+he was much better tonight.
+
+"Tell me what happened," he repeated.
+
+And Pilar poured out her whole story.
+
+"We have had no money, dear Grandfather," she said. "And I have had to
+sell everything of value--everything out of my mother's chest of
+souvenirs.
+
+"The castanets were the last to go. Juan had offered to buy them from me
+for a great dancing master, and today I was on my way to Juan's shop.
+But I--I--stopped in the Murillo Garden--and--and danced--oh!"
+
+"Go on, Pilly dear," said her grandfather patiently.
+
+"As I was dancing," she continued, "a gentleman came up to me and asked
+to see the--the castanets. When I showed them to him, he said that he
+would like to buy them. He said that he was the dancing master of whom
+Juan had spoken.
+
+"Oh, Grandfather, he offered me so much money for them, and I--I--"
+
+"What did you do, Pilly?" asked the old man.
+
+"I could not sell them, Grandfather!" sobbed Pilar. "I--I could not! I
+ran away from him. I ran away!"
+
+[Illustration: TRIANA BRIDGE, SEVILLE]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+A STRANGER ARRIVES
+
+
+"Do not cry any more, Pilly," said her grandfather. "You have done no
+harm by keeping the castanets. Perhaps you have done good. I shall tell
+you why later on. But first let us have our dinner."
+
+Pilar tried to smile. She brushed away her tears. Her grandfather was
+actually hungry! Oh, this meant that really and truly he was getting
+well!
+
+Pilar started toward the kitchen. She had planned such a splendid dinner
+for tonight, and now they would be obliged to eat beans and drink milk.
+
+If only she could prepare her grandfather's favorite omelet stuffed
+with creamed fish, or a bowl of stew, made out of chick-peas, garlic,
+potatoes, sausage, peppers, and cabbage! But--
+
+What was that white thing lying under the door? Pilar stooped down and
+picked up a letter. It was postmarked "U.S.A."
+
+Now very few of Pilar's friends would have known what those initials
+meant. And even if they had been told, many of them would have shrieked
+with laughter and cried, "Only red Indians live there!"
+
+But Pilar's grandfather had been in America long ago, and, of course,
+her mother had danced there.
+
+The letter came from Antonio Santaella, and that was Tony--Tony, who had
+lived in Seville as a boy and was now an important merchant in America.
+Enclosed in the letter, Pilar found paper bills--money--more money than
+Pilar and her grandfather had seen in many years!
+
+Tony wrote that he would always remember Pilar's mother, known as "The
+Little Spanish Dancer." He also asked Pilar whether she, too, would
+become a dancer when she grew up.
+
+Pilar's eyes shone.
+
+"Oh, Grandfather!" she cried. "What a kind man Señor Tony is! How much I
+love him! How I wish to be a dancer like my mother! Shall we have eggs
+or stew for dinner?" She had said it all in one breath. She rushed to
+open the door on her way to market, adding, "I shall be right
+ba--pf-f-f!"
+
+With a terrible thud, Pilar had bumped into a tall gentleman who stood
+at the door. It was the great dancing master.
+
+"Good evening," he said. "Are you Señorita Pilar?"
+
+[Illustration: A NET MAKER, SEVILLE]
+
+Pilar backed into the room. She looked like a scared little rabbit. What
+did he want? Had he come to take her castanets?
+
+"Ah, yes, you are the Señorita Pilar," continued the gentleman. He came
+into the room, closed the door behind him, and sat down calmly.
+
+"And this, I believe, is señor, your grandfather. No?" He smiled at the
+old man, who lay quietly in his bed. "You see, I found out all about
+you, señorita. After you ran away from me in the garden, I made up my
+mind to follow you, and I did."
+
+Suddenly Pilar's eyes flashed angrily.
+
+"You cannot have the castanets!" she cried.
+
+She was standing in the center of the room, and her face was white with
+fury. Her small body was drawn up, rigid and tense.
+
+"I'll never let you have them!" she screamed. "They're mine! Mine!
+Mine!"
+
+She stamped her foot and threw back her head. But the tall gentleman did
+not seem in the least disturbed. He just sat there looking at her and
+smiling as if he were watching a play.
+
+Indeed, one had the impression that he might begin to clap at any
+moment. But he did not.
+
+Instead, he just laughed good-naturedly and said, "What a little
+firecracker you are! And how graceful, too! Now, listen, child."
+
+He had stopped smiling. He leaned forward and spoke to Pilar in a
+serious voice.
+
+"Listen to me, Pilar," he said. "I do not want your castanets if you do
+not care to sell them to me. But--" He hesitated for a moment while
+Pilar stared at him, still with that look of anger and fear in her eyes.
+"But I do want something else!"
+
+Pilar's grandfather raised himself upon his pillow. "What is it that you
+wish, Señor?" he asked.
+
+"The Little Spanish Dancer!" replied the gentleman. "I want Pilar!"
+
+[Illustration: TOLEDO]
+
+Both Pilar and her grandfather started. What was this man talking about?
+
+"I want to take Pilar to my school," he went on, "and teach her. For I
+believe that some day she will be a wonderful dancer. And I should know,
+for I have taught some of the best dancers in Spain."
+
+Now Pilar realized who he was. Often she had passed the window of his
+dancing school. She had watched the fortunate pupils and listened to the
+strains of a tango and the clatter of castanets.
+
+Upon the walls of the school were colored posters showing scenes of
+bullfights. Girls and boys, young and old, stamped their feet and
+twirled to fiery music.
+
+It had always made Pilar's heart beat faster. She had longed to join
+them. But lessons were only for wealthy children and--
+
+"But, señor," said Pilar's grandfather, as if he had been reading
+Pilar's mind, "we have no money to spend on lessons."
+
+"I shall ask no money," replied the dancing master. "No. Our school will
+some day be proud of Señorita Pilar."
+
+He stood up and put out his hand to the little girl.
+
+"Come tomorrow for your first lesson," he said. "My brother will
+instruct you. My brother, you know, is the second greatest dancing
+master in Spain."
+
+"And who is the first, señor?" asked Pilar's grandfather.
+
+"Why, I am, of course!" answered the tall man proudly, and walked out of
+the room.
+
+When he had left, there was much rejoicing in the tiny house. Pilar went
+out and bought a basket full of good things, and they had dinner.
+
+After dinner, they sat together, silent and happy, the old man's
+wrinkled hand caressing the child's glossy black hair.
+
+Then all at once, in a low, mysterious voice, the grandfather began to
+recite:
+
+    "_Castanets, with magic spell,
+    Never lose or give or sell;
+    If you do, then grief and strife
+    Will follow you through all your life._"
+
+[Illustration: PILAR AND HER GRANDFATHER]
+
+When he had told Pilar about the magic castanets and the legends with
+their strange lessons, she felt a wave of joy sweep through her.
+
+"Oh, then, it must have been the magic of the castanets that brought us
+all this good fortune, Grandfather!" she cried.
+
+Her grandfather smiled wisely and shook his head.
+
+"No, Pilly," he said. "Good fortune always comes to those who think good
+thoughts and who work hard. There is no magic in that."
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+PRONOUNCING VOCABULARY
+
+
+    Alcazar            äl-kä´thär
+    Algeciras          [)a]l´j[+e]-s[=e]´r[.a]s
+    Andalucia          än´dä-l[=oo]-th[=e]´ä
+    Avila              ä´v[+e]-lä
+    Babieca            bä bie´ca
+    Barcelona          bär´s[)e]-l[=o]´n[.a]
+    Boabdil            b[=o]´äb-d[=e]l´
+    Burgos             b[=oo]r´g[=o]s
+    Cadiz              k[)a]d´[)i]z
+    Castanet           k[)a]s´t[.a]-n[)e]t´
+    Cervantes          s[~e]r-v[)a]n´t[=e]z
+    Cid                s[)i]d
+    Cordoba            kôr´d[+o]-vä
+    Damascene          d[)a]m´[.a]-s[=e]n
+    Damascus           d[.a]-m[)a]s´k[)u]s
+    Don Quixote        d[+o]n-k[+e]-h[=o]´t[+a]
+    El Escorial        [)e]l [)e]s-k[=o]´r[)i]-[)a]l
+    Fiesta             fy[)e]s´tä
+    Granada            gr[.a]-nä´d[.a]
+    Guadalquivir       gwä´d[)a]l-kw[)i]v´[~e]r
+    Jerez              h[+a]-r[=a]th´
+    Juan               hwän
+    Montserrat         m[)o]nt´s[)e]-r[)a]t´
+    Mosque             m[)o]sk
+    Murillo            m[+u]-r[)i]l´[=o]
+    Odyssey            [)o]d´[)i]-s[)i]
+    Prado              prä´d[=o]
+    Pyrenees           p[)i]r´[+e] n[=e]z
+    Rodrigo de Bivar   r[+o]-dr[=e]´g[=o] de be-vär´
+    Salamanca          s[)a]l´[.a]-m[)a]ng´k[.a]
+    Segovia            s[+a]-g[=o]´vyä
+    Señor              s[=a]-ny[=o]r´
+    Señorita           s[=a]´ny[=o]-r[=e]´tä
+    Seville            s[+e]-v[)i]l´
+    Tagus              t[=a]´g[)u]s
+    Toreador           t[)o]r´[+e]-[.a]-dôr´
+    Torero             t[+o]-r[=a]´r[=o]
+    Tormes             tôr´m[=a]s
+    Torre del Oro      tôr´r[+a] d[)e]l-[=o]´r[=o]
+    Valencia           v[.a]-l[)e]n´sh[)i]-[.a]
+    Valladolid         väl´yä-th[+o]-l[=e]th´
+    Visigoth           v[)i]z´[)i]-g[)o]th
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes:
+
+
+1. Passages in italics are surrounded by _underscores_.
+
+2. The list of illustrations with their page numbers have been added
+after the table of contents.
+
+3. Images have been moved from the middle of a paragraph to the closest
+paragraph break.
+
+4. In this etext, a letter with a diacritical mark is enclosed within
+square brackets. For example, diacritical marks for letter 'e' are shown
+below:
+
+  [)e] represents 'letter e with breve above'
+  [=e]            'letter e with macron above'
+  [+e]            'letter e with up tack above'
+  [~e]            'letter e with tilde above'
+
+Similar representation is used for vowels other than 'e'. The following
+two also appear within this etext:
+
+  [.a] represents 'letter a with dot above'
+  [=oo]           'letters oo with combined macron above'
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Little Spanish Dancer, by Madeline Brandeis
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40592 ***