[p v]
THE MEXICAN TWINS
By Lucy Fitch Perkins
ILLUSTRATED BY THE AUTHOR
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
[p vi]
COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY LUCY FITCH PERKINS
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Published November 1915
CONTENTS
| Introduction—The Mexican Twins | [1] | |
| I. | San Ramon’s Day In The Morning | [5] |
| II. | The Blessing | [19] |
| III. | The Party | [45] |
| IV. | Tonio’s Bad Day | [59] |
| V. | Judas Iscariot Day | [85] |
| VI. | The Adventure | [109] |
| VII. | While They Were Gone | [123] |
| VIII. | The Secret Meeting | [133] |
| IX. | Christmas At The Hacienda | [161] |
[p ix]
THE MEXICAN TWINS
[p 1]
THE MEXICAN TWINS
This is a picture of Antonio Francisco Gomez[1] and his twin sister, Margarita Teresa Gomez.
They live on the great hacienda[2], or plantation, of Señor Fernandez[3], in the wonderful country of Mexico, and they are eight years old.
The boy is named Antonio for Saint Antonio and Francisco for his father, and the girl is named Margarita for Saint Margarita and Teresa for her mother.
But nobody ever thinks of calling the Twins by all these names. They are called just Tonio and Tita, to save time.
Even their father isn’t called by his long name! Everybody calls him Pancho[4]—that is, everybody but the Twins, of course.
Their mother isn’t called anything at all for short. She is always called Doña Teresa[5]. I do not know why this is, unless perhaps it is because she [p 2] can make better tortillas, and chicken mole, and candied sweet potatoes than any one else on the whole hacienda.
Pancho is a vaquero, or cowboy.
There are hundreds of cows and oxen and sheep and goats on Señor Fernandez’s hacienda, and all day long, every day, Pancho rides about on his horse Pinto, rounding up cattle, driving the cows to pasture after milking, or getting the oxen together for the plowing.
The Twins think it is a fine thing to be a vaquero and ride horseback all the time.
Tonio means to be one when he grows up. He practices riding on Tonto, the donkey, now, and he has had his own lasso since he was six.
If you will turn the page you will find a picture of the little adobe hut where Tonio and Tita and Pancho and Doña Teresa live. Pancho isn’t in the picture, because he and Pinto are away in the fields, but Doña Teresa is there grinding her corn, and Tita is feeding the chickens, while Tonio plays with his dog, Jasmin[6].
Tonio is looking out from the shed at the end of the hut. Tita’s cat is on the roof. She is almost always on the roof when Jasmin is about.
Beside the hut is a fig tree, which bears the most [p 3] delicious figs. Every night the red rooster, the five hens, and the turkey go to roost in its branches, and every day its green boughs make a pleasant shade across the dooryard.
Back of the hut there is a tiny garden with bee-hives, and beyond that there is a path through the woods that leads down to a little river. It was in this very path, just where the stepping-stones cross the river, that Tonio met—But there! it tells all about that in the story and you can read it for yourselves.
[1] Pronounced Gō´mess.
[2] Ah-sī-en´-dah.
[3] Fer-nahn´dess.
[4] Pahn´cho.
[5] Dōn´ya Tay-ray´sa.
[6] Hahss-meen´.
[p 4a]
I
SAN RAMON’S DAY IN THE MORNING
[p 5]
I
SAN RAMON’S DAY IN THE MORNING
I
One summer morning the red rooster on his perch in the fig tree woke up and took a look at the sky.
He was a very responsible rooster. He was always the first one up in the morning, and I really think he believed that if it were not for him the sun himself would forget to rise.
It was so very early that a few stars still shone, and a pale moon was sailing away toward the west. Over the eastern hills the rooster saw a pink cloud, and knew at once that it was time to wake the world. He stood up and stretched his wings. Then he crowed so long and loud that he nearly fell off his [p 6] perch backward, on to the cat, who was sleeping on the roof just below.
“Cock a doodle do-o-o!” he screamed. “I’m awake, are you-oo-oo?”
At least that is the way it must have sounded to all the other roosters in the little village, for they began at once to answer him.
“Cock a doodle doo-oo, we’re up as soon as you-oo,” they cried; and soon there was such a chorus of them calling back and forth that the five hens woke up, one after another, and flew down from the perch, to hunt bugs for their breakfast.
Last of all the turkey opened his eyes and flapped heavily to the ground, gobbling all the way.
The cat stretched herself and sprang from the roof to the fig tree and sharpened her claws on its bark.
The birds began to sing, and still there was no sound from the tiny gray adobe house under the fig tree.
The little white hen tiptoed round to the [p 7] front of the hut and peeped in at the open door. There in one corner of their one room lay Tonio and Tita and their father and mother, all sound asleep.
The little white hen must have told the red rooster what she saw, for he followed her and looked into the hut too. Then he ruffled his neck feathers, flapped his wings, and crowed so loudly that Pancho and Doña Teresa and the Twins all woke at once and sat up with a bounce, to see what was the matter.
It startled the little white hen to see them all sit up suddenly in a row, so she squawked and scrambled out through the open door as fast as she could go.
The red rooster ran too, and the two of them never stopped until they disappeared behind the bee-hives in the garden.
II
The moment she was really awake, Doña Teresa began to talk.
[p 9]
“Upon my soul!” she cried, crossing herself, “the red rooster gave me a dreadful
turn. I was just in the midst of a most beautiful dream! But now he has driven it all out of my head with his silly noise, and I cannot even remember what it was about!”
Doña Teresa rose, and while she talked she deftly rolled up the mat on which she had slept and stood it on end in the corner of the room. You see it didn’t take any time at all to dress, because they always slept with their clothes on. But Doña Teresa was very particular about one thing. She made them all wash their faces and hands the very first thing every single morning!
For a wash-basin there was a part of a log, hollowed out like a trough. Beside the hollow log there was a large red olla, with a gourd in it. Pancho had dipped water from the olla into the trough and was already splashing about, while Doña Teresa rolled the Twins off on to the floor and placed their mats in the corner with the others.
“Come, my pigeons,” she said to them, “it is time to be stirring. We are very lazy [p 10] to lie in bed after cockcrow on San Ramon’s[7] Day!”
“Oh, Little Mother,” cried Tita, picking herself up, “is it really the fiesta of San Ramon? And may I take the little white hen to be blessed, all myself?”
“You may take the little white hen if you can catch her,” Doña Teresa answered. “Indeed, we must take all the animals, or at the very least one of each kind to stand for all the others. The turkey must be caught, and the goat must be brought from the field so I can milk her. Tonto [that was what they called the donkey] is waiting in the shed to be made ready, not to speak of the cat and dog! Bless my soul, how many things there are to be done!”
While his mother talked, Tonio had taken his lasso down from the nail where it hung, and was just quietly slipping out of the door with it, when Doña Teresa saw him. “Here you—Tonio,” she cried, “come back and wash yourself!”
“Can’t I wait until I’ve caught Pinto?” Tonio begged. “What’s the use of washing? You only get dirty again. Lots of the boys don’t wash at all except on Sunday.”
“Come right back and wash yourself this minute,” commanded Doña Teresa. “You might as well say it’s no use to eat your [p 12] breakfast because you’ll be hungry again right away! As long as I’m your mother you shall begin the day right at least.”
Tonio groaned a little, and came back to the trough. There he did something that he called washing, though I feel quite sure that there were corners behind his ears that were not even wet!
On the wall above the place where the sleeping mats had been spread, there was a picture of the Virgin and Child, and Doña Teresa kept a little taper always burning before the picture.
When they had all washed, Doña Teresa called Pancho and the Twins to her side, and all four knelt in a row before the picture, crossed themselves, and murmured a little prayer.
“If you want the day to go right,” said Doña Teresa as she rose from her knees, “always begin with saying your prayers and washing your face. And now, Tonio, run and catch Pinto for your father while I get his breakfast, for the cows must be rounded up [p 13] for milking even if it is San Ramon’s Day; and Tita, you take the little red olla and go for water!”
III
While the Twins were gone on these errands, Pancho fed the donkey, and Doña Teresa made the fire in her queer little stove; only she didn’t call it a stove—she called it a brasero.[8] It was a sort of box built up of clay and stones. The brasero stood in an [p 14] alcove, and beside it was a large red olla, which Doña Teresa kept filled with water for her cooking. Beyond the brasero was a cupboard for the dishes.
Doña Teresa knelt before the brasero and pulled out the ashes of yesterday’s fire. Then she put in some little sticks, lighted them, and set a flat red dish on top of the brasero over the tiny flames.
In the corner of the room there was a pretty basket covered with a white drawn-work napkin. Doña Teresa turned back the napkin and counted out ten flat cakes, made of corn meal. They were yesterday’s tortillas. These she put in the dish to heat.
When they were warm, she brought some of them to Pancho, with a dish of beans and red chile sauce. Pancho sat down on a flat stone under the fig tree to eat his breakfast. He had no knife or fork or spoon, but he really did not need them, for he tore the tortillas into wedge-shaped pieces and scooped up the beans and chile sauce with them, and ate scoop, beans, chile sauce, and all in one [p 15] mouthful. The chile sauce was so hot with red pepper that you would have thought that Pancho must have had a tin throat in order to swallow it at all; but he was used to it, and never even winked his eyes when it went down. Just as he was taking the last bite of the last tortilla, Tonio came back, leading Pinto by the rope of his lasso.
Tonio was very proud of catching Pinto and bringing him back to his father all by himself. He even put the saddle on. But the moment he felt the saddle-girth around him Pinto swelled up like everything, so that Tonio couldn’t buckle it! Tonio pulled and tugged until he was red in the face, but Pinto just stood still with his ears turned back, and stayed swelled.
Then Pancho came up. He took hold of the strap, braced his knee against Pinto’s side, and pulled.
Pinto knew it was no use holding his breath any longer, so he let go, and in a minute Pancho had the strap securely fastened and had vaulted into the saddle.
He was just starting away, when Doña Teresa came running out of the hut with something in her hand. “Here’s a bite of lunch for you,” she said, “in case you get hungry in the field. There’s beans and chile sauce and four tortillas.”
She had put it all nicely in a little dish with the tortillas fitted in like a cover over the chile sauce and beans, and it was all tied up in a clean white cloth.
[p 17]
Pancho took off his sombrero, put the dish carefully on his head, and clapped his hat down over it. The hat was large, and the dish just fitted the crown, so it seemed quite safe. Then he galloped off, looking very grand and gay, with his red serape flying out behind him.
When he was out of sight, Doña Teresa and the Twins had their breakfasts too, sitting on the stones under the fig tree.
[7] Pronounced Sahn Rah-mon´.
[8] Brah-say´ro.
[p 18a]
II
THE BLESSING
[p 19]
II
THE BLESSING
I
When breakfast was over you could tell by the long, long shadow of the fig tree that it was still very early in the morning. On sunny days Doña Teresa could tell the time almost exactly by its shadow, but on rainy days she just had to guess, because there was no clock in her little cabin.
It was lucky that it was so early, because there were so many things to be done. The Twins and their mother were not the only busy people about, however, for there were two hundred other peons beside Pancho who worked on the hacienda, and each one had a little cabin where he lived with his family.
There were other vaqueros besides [p 20] Pancho. There were ploughmen, and farmers, and water-carriers, and servants for the great white house where Señor Fernandez lived with his wife and pretty daughter Carmen. And there was the gatekeeper, José,[9] whom the Twins loved because he knew the most wonderful stories and was always willing to tell them.
There were field-workers, and wood-cutters, and even fishermen. The huts where they all lived were huddled together like a little village, and the village, and the country for miles and miles around, and the big house, and the little chapel beside it, and the schoolhouse, and everything else on that great hacienda, belonged to Señor Fernandez.
It almost seemed as if the workers all belonged to Señor Fernandez, too, for they had to do just what he told them to, and there was no other place for them to go and nothing else for them to do if they had wanted ever so much to change.
[p 21]
All the people, big and little, loved the fiesta of San Ramon. They thought the priest’s blessing would cause the hens to lay more eggs, and the cows to give more milk, and that it would keep all the creatures well and strong.
Though it was a feast day, most of the men had gone away from their homes early, when Pancho did; but the women and children in all the little cabins were busy as bees, getting themselves and their animals ready to go in procession to the place where the priest was to bless them.
As soon as breakfast was eaten, Doña Teresa said to Tonio: “Go now, my Tonio, and make Tonto beautiful! His coat is rough and full of burs, and he will make a very poor figure to show the priest unless you give him a good brushing. Only be careful of his hind legs. You know Tonto is sometimes very wild with his hind legs. It is strange to me that his front ones should be so much more tame, but it seems to be the nature of the poor creature.”
Tonio went to Tonto’s shed and brought him out and tied him to a tree. Then he brushed his coat and took out the burs, and braided the end of his tail, and even made a wreath of green leaves and hung it over his left ear. And Tonto seemed to know that it [p 23] was San Ramon’s Day, for he never kicked at all, and brayed only once, when Tonio pulled a very large bur out of his ear.
II
While Tonio was making Tonto beautiful, Tita swept the ground under the fig tree and sprinkled it with water, and washed and put away the few dishes they had used.
Her mother was very busy meanwhile, grinding the corn for tortillas. You see, every single meal they had tortillas. It was their bread, and their meat too, most of the time, so it would never do to miss getting the corn ground, not even if it were the greatest feast day of the whole year.
When Tita had finished putting things in order, her mother said to her, “Now, my pigeon, see if you can’t catch the little white hen, and the red rooster, and the turkey. The red rooster crows so sweetly I shall miss him when he is put in the pot, but he is not long for this world! He is so greedy [p 24] there’s no satisfying him with food. He has no usefulness at all, except to wake us in the morning.
“But the little white hen now! There is the useful one! She has already begun to lay. She must surely go to the priest. And as for the turkey, he needs to go for the sake of his temper! I hope the padrecito will lay a spell on him to stop his gobbling from morning till night. It will be no grief to me when he is put on to boil.”
The red rooster, the hen, and the turkey were all wandering round in the little patch of garden behind the house, when Tita came out, rattling some corn in a dish.
The red rooster began to run the moment he heard corn rattle, and he called to the hens to come too. He seemed to think they wouldn’t know enough even to eat corn unless he advised them to.
They swarmed around Tita’s feet, pecking at each other and snatching greedily at each kernel as it fell.
“You all need to go to the priest for your [p 25] manners,” Tita said to them severely. “You behave like the pigs.”
She set the dish down on the ground, and when they all tried to get their heads into it at once, she picked out the legs of the red rooster and seized them with one hand, and those of the little white hen with the other, and before they could guess what in the world was happening to them she had them safely in the house, where she tied them to the legs of the table.
III
When Tita went back after the turkey, she found him eating the very last kernels of corn out of the dish. He had driven all the hens away and was having a very nice time by himself. Tita made a grab for his legs, but he was too quick for her. He flew up into the fig tree and from there to the roof. Tita looked up at him anxiously.
“Don’t you think you ought to get blessed?” she said. “Come down now, that’s a good old gobbler! Mother says [p 26] your temper is so bad you must surely go to the priest, and how can I take you if you won’t come down?”
“Gobble,” said the turkey, and stayed where he was.
[p 27]
Tita was in despair. She threw a stick at him, but he only walked up the thatched roof with his toes turned in, and sat down on the ridge-pole.
Just then Tita looked down the river path, and there was Tonio coming with the goat! At least he was trying to, but the goat didn’t seem to care any more about being blessed than the turkey did. She was standing with her four feet braced, pulling back with all her might, while Tonio pulled forward on the lasso which was looped over her horns.
Tonio looked very angry. He called to Tita, “Come here and help me with this fool of a goat! I believe the devil himself has got into her! She has acted just like this all the way from the pasture!”
Tita ran down the path and got behind the goat. She pushed and Tonio pulled, and by and by they got her as far as the fig tree. Then they tied her to a branch, and while Doña Teresa milked her, the Twins went after the turkey again.
[p 28]
Tonio had practiced lassoing bushes and stumps and pigs and chickens and even Tita herself, ever since he could remember, and you may be sure no turkey could get the best of him. He stood down in the yard and whirled his lasso in great circles round his head, and then all of a sudden the loop flew into the air and dropped right over the turkey on the ridge-pole, and tightened around his legs!
If he hadn’t had wings the turkey certainly would have tumbled off the roof. As it was, he spread his wings and flopped down, and Tita took him into the cabin and tied him to the third leg of the table. There he made himself very disagreeable to the little white hen, and gobbled angrily at the red rooster, and even pecked at Tita herself when she came near.
“There!” sighed Doña Teresa, when the turkey was safely tied; “at last we have them all together. Now we will make them all gay.”
She went to the chest which held all their [p 29] precious things, took out three rolls of tissue paper, and held them up for the Twins to see. One was green, one was white, and one was red.
“Look,” said she. “These are all Mexican animals, so I thought it would be nice for them to wear the Mexican colors. Come, my angels, and I will show you how to make wreaths and streamers and fringes and flowers for them to wear. Our creatures must not shame us by looking shabby and dull in the procession. They shall be as gay as the best of them.”
For a long time they all three worked, and when they had made enough decorations for all the animals, Doña Teresa brought out another surprise. It was some gilt paint and a brush! She let Tonio gild the goat’s horns and hoofs, and Tita gilded the legs and feet of the little white hen.
While she was doing it, the red rooster stuck his bill into the dish and swallowed two great big bites of gold paint on his own account! Doña Teresa saw him do it.
“If he isn’t trying to gild himself on the inside!” she cried. “Did you ever see such sinful pride!” And then she made him swallow a large piece of red pepper because she was afraid the paint would disagree with him.
The red rooster seemed depressed for a long time after that; but whether it was because of the paint, or the pepper, or being so awfully dressed up, I cannot say. His bill was gilded because he had dipped it in the gold paint, so they gilded his legs to match. Then they tied a white tissue-paper wreath with long streamers around his neck. [p 31] They tied a red one on the little white hen. They tried to decorate the turkey, too, but he was in no mood for it, and gobbled and pecked at them so savagely that Doña Teresa had to tie up his head in a rag!
They stuck some red tissue-paper flowers in Tonto’s wreath, and tied red tissue-paper streamers to the goat’s horns. They put a green ruff around the cat’s neck, and a red one on the dog; but the dog ran at once to the river and waded in and got it all wet, and the color ran out and dyed his coat, and the ruff fell off, before they were even ready to start.
IV
At last a gong sounded from the big house.
The gong was the signal for the procession to start, and the moment they heard it, the people began pouring out of their cabins, and getting their animals together to drive toward the place where the blessing was to be.
[p 32]
Doña Teresa and Tita threw their rebozos over their heads, and Tonio put on his sombrero. Then Doña Teresa untied the turkey’s legs and took him in her arms; and though his head was still tied in the cloth, he gobbled like everything.
Tita took the little white hen on one arm, and her kitten on the other, and Tonio led the donkey, with Jasmin following behind.
They were all ready to start, when Doña Teresa cried out, “Upon my soul! We nearly forgot the goat! Surely she’s needing a blessing as much as the worst of them.”
She hurried back to the fig tree and untied the goat with one hand, because she was still carrying the turkey with the other. When the goat felt herself free, she gave a great jump and nearly jerked the rope out of Doña Teresa’s hand; then she went galloping toward the gate so fast that poor Doña Teresa was all out of breath keeping up with her.
“Bless my soul, but that goat goes [p 33] gayly!” she panted, as she joined the Twins at the gate. “If I led her about much I should have no chance to get fat.”
Already there were crowds of people and animals going by. It was a wonderful procession. There were horses and cows all gayly decorated with garlands and colored streamers. There were donkeys and pigs [p 34] and guinea-fowls and cats and dogs and birds in cages, and so many other creatures that it looked very much like the procession of animals going into Noah’s ark.
Doña Josefa,[10] who lived in a hut near the river, was driving two ducks and two white geese,—only she had dyed the geese a bright purple,—and José’s wife had painted stripes of red clear around her pig. She was having a dreadful time keeping the pig in the road, for all the little boys, and all the little dogs—and there were a great many of both—frisked and gamboled around the procession and got in the way, and made such a noise that it is no wonder the creatures were distracted and tried to run away.
V
It was not a very great distance to the large corrals back of the big house where the people were to meet, and as they drew near the grounds Tonio and Tita could see Pancho dashing about on Pinto after stray [p 35] cows, and other cowboys rounding up the calves and putting them in a corral by themselves.
The bulls were already safely shut away in another inclosure, and all the open space around the corrals was filled with horses, and donkeys, and sheep, and goats, and dogs, and cats, and fowls of all kinds, all dressed in such gay colors and making such a medley of sounds that the Fourth of July, fire-crackers and all, would have seemed [p 36] like Sunday afternoon beside the celebration of San Ramon’s Day in Mexico.
Señor Fernandez, looking very grand in his black velvet suit and big sombrero, sat on his fine horse and watched the scene. Beside him, on their own horses, were Doña Paula, his wife, and pretty Carmen, their daughter.
The servants of the big house were grouped around them, and all the rest of the people passed back and forth among the animals, trying to make them keep still and behave themselves until the priest should appear.
It was not long before the priest came out of his house, with a small boy beside him carrying a basin of holy water.
Doña Teresa and all the people knelt on the ground when they saw him coming. The priest walked among them chanting a prayer and sprinkling drops of holy water over the animals and over the people too. Of course the people behaved very well, but I am sorry to have to tell you that when he [p 37] felt the drops of water fall on the rag that his head was tied up in, the turkey gobbled just exactly as if it were Tita—or Doña Teresa—instead of the priest!
And the cat stuck up her tail and arched her back, in a most impolite way. Perhaps that was not to be wondered at, because we all know that cats can never bear water, not even holy water.
But when Tonto, who should have known better, and who was used to being out in the rain even, stuck his nose up in the air and let out a “hee-haw, hee-haw” that set every other donkey in the crowd hee-hawing too, Doña Teresa felt as if she should die of mortification.
Only the red rooster, the little white hen, the goat, and the Twins behaved as if they had had any bringing up at all! However, the priest didn’t seem to mind it. He went in and out among the people, sprinkling the water and chanting his prayer until the basin was empty. Then he pronounced the blessing.
[p 38]
VI
When he had finished, the people drove their creatures back to their homes, or to the fields.
Pancho came riding along and took Tita and the white hen up on Pinto’s back with him. Tonio rode Tonto and carried the rooster. Tita had to put the cat down to get up on the horse, and when Tonio’s dog saw her he barked at her, and she ran just as fast as she could and got to the cabin and up on the roof out of reach.
Doña Teresa walked along with Doña Josefa, and talked with her about her rheumatism and about how badly the animals behaved, and how handsome Doña Josefa’s purple geese were, until she turned in at their own gate.
When she was in their own yard once more, she set the turkey down and untied his head. Tonio let the rooster go, and Tita set the little white hen free, and they all three ran under Tonto’s shed as if they were afraid [p 39] they might get blessed again if they stayed where they could easily be caught. And they never came out until they had torn the tissue paper all to pieces and left it lying on the ground.
Tonio got the goat back to pasture by [p 40] walking in front of her, holding a carrot just out of reach, and Pancho took Pinto and the donkey down to the river for a drink, while Tita and her mother went into the cabin to get the second breakfast ready. When people get up so very early they need two breakfasts.
Doña Teresa was just patting the meal into cakes with her hands and cooking them over the brasero, when Pancho came in the cabin door with dreadful red streams running down his head and face and over his white cotton clothes!
When Doña Teresa saw him, she screamed and flew to his side. “What is it, my Pancho?” she cried. “You are hurt—you are killed, my angel! Oh, what has happened?”
She asked so many questions and poured out so many words that Pancho couldn’t get one in edgewise; so he just took off his hat, and there was the dish of chile sauce and tortillas broken all to bits, and the chile sauce spilled all over his face and clothes!
[p 41]
“It was that foolish Tonto that did it,” he said, when he could say anything at all. “I was just putting him back in his shed when he cried, ‘Hee-haw,’ and let fly with both hind feet at once and one of them just grazed my head, and broke the dish.”
Doña Teresa sat down heavily with her hand on her heart. “If anything had happened to you, my rose, my angel,” she said, “I should have died of sorrow! Tonto is indeed a very careless beast. It would seem as if the padrecito’s blessing might have put more sense into him. It must be the will of God that there should be a great deal of foolishness in the world, but without doubt donkeys and goats have more than their share.”
Just then she smelled the tortillas burning and ran back to attend to them, while Pancho washed himself at the trough, and mopped the chile sauce off his clothes.
In a little while the Twins and their father and mother were all sitting about on [p 42] the stones under the fig tree, eating their second breakfast. And when they had all had every bit they could hold, it was almost noon.
[9] Hō-sā´.
[10] Hō-sĕf´-ah.
[p 43]
III
THE PARTY
[p 45]
III
THE PARTY
I
Early that evening, when Pancho had rounded up the cows and taken them back again to pasture, and the goat had been milked, the animals fed, and supper eaten and cleared away, the Twins and their father and mother sat down together outside their cabin door.
The moon had risen and was shining so brightly that it made beautiful patterned shadows under the fig tree. There were pleasant evening sounds all about. Sometimes it was the hoot of an owl or the chirp of a cricket, but oftener it was the sound of laughter and of children’s voices from the huts near by.
The red rooster, the turkey, and the hens were all asleep in the fig tree. Tita could see [p 46] their bunchy shadows among the shadows of the leaves. The cat was away hunting for field-mice. Jasmin sat beside Tonio, with his tongue hanging out, and everything was very quiet and peaceful.
Then suddenly, quite far away, they heard a faint tinkling sound. “Ting-a-ling-ling; ting-a-ling-ling,” it went, and then there was a voice singing:
“Crown of the high hill
That with your cool shadow
Gives me life,
Where is my beloved?
Oh, beautiful hill,
Where dwells my love?
If I am sleeping,
I’m dreaming of thee;
If I am waking, thee only I see.”
The voice came nearer and nearer, and children’s voices began to join in the singing, and soon Tonio and Tita could see dark forms moving in the moonlight. There was one tall figure, and swarming around it there were ever so many short ones.
“It’s José with his guitar!” cried the [p 47] Twins, and they flew out to meet him. Doña Teresa and Pancho came too.
“God give you good evening,” they all cried out to each other when they met; and then José said, “Have you plenty of sweet potatoes, Doña Teresa? We have come with our dishes and our pennies.”
“Yes,” laughed Doña Teresa. “I thought you might come to-night and I knew your sweet tooth, José! And all these little ones, have they each got a sweet tooth too?”
“Oh yes, Doña Teresa, please cook us some sweet potatoes, won’t you?” the children begged. They held up their empty dishes.
“Well, then, come in, all of you,” said Doña Teresa, “and I will see what I can do.”
She hurried back to the cabin. Pancho went with her, and José and the Twins and all the other children came trooping after them and swarmed around the cabin door.
Pancho made a little brasero right in the middle of the open space beside the fig tree. He made it of stones, and built a fire in it. [p 48] While he was doing that, Doña Teresa got her sweet potatoes ready to cook, and when she came out with the cooking-dish and a jug of syrup in her hands, the children set up a shout of joy.
“Now sit down, all of you,” commanded Doña Teresa, as she knelt beside the brasero and poured the syrup into the cooking-pan, [p 49] “It will take some time to cook enough for every one, and if you are in too much of a hurry you may burn your fingers and your tongue. José, you tell us a story while we are waiting.”
So they all sat down in a circle around Doña Teresa with José opposite her, and the fire flickered in the brasero, and lighted up all the eager brown faces and all the bright black eyes, as they watched Doña Teresa’s cooking-pan.
II
Then José told the story of Br’er Rabbit and the Tar Baby; and after that he told how Br’er Rabbit made a riding-horse out of Br’er Fox; and when he had finished, the sweet potatoes were ready.
“Who shall have the first piece?” asked Doña Teresa, holding up a nice brown slice.
“José, José,” cried all the children.
José took out his penny and gave it to Doña Teresa, and held out his dish. She took up a big piece of sweet potato on the [p 50] end of a pointed stick. It was almost safely landed in José’s dish, when suddenly there was a great flapping of wings and a loud “Cock-a-doodle-doo,” right behind José!
The red rooster had opened his eyes, and when he saw the glow of the fire, he thought it must be morning. So he crowed at once, and then flew right down off his perch, and before any one knew what he was after or could stop him, he had snatched José’s candied sweet potato off the end of Doña Teresa’s stick, and was running away with it as fast as he could go!
“Thanks be to God,” said José, “that piece was still very hot!”
The red rooster soon found that out for himself. He was so afraid that somebody would get his morsel away from him that he swallowed it whole, boiling hot syrup and all! He thought it was worse than the red pepper and the gold paint he had taken that morning.
He opened his bill wide and squawked with pain, and his eyes looked wild. The children rolled on the ground with laughter. [p 51] The last they saw of the red rooster he was running to the back of the house, where a dish of water was kept for the chickens; and it is perfectly true that for three days after that he could hardly crow at all!
Doña Teresa was dreadfully ashamed of the red rooster. She apologized and gave José another piece of sweet potato at once, and then she passed out more pieces to the children, and said:—
“Now mind you don’t behave like the rooster! You see what he got for being greedy.”
[p 52]
The children sucked their pieces slowly, so as to make them last a long time, and while they got themselves all sticky with syrup, José told them the story of Cinderella and her glass slippers and her pumpkin coach, and two ghost stories.
III
“Where did you learn so many beautiful stories, José?” asked Tonio when he had finished the last one. “Did you read them out of a book?” (You see Tonio and Tita and some of the older children went to school and were beginning to read a little.)
José shook his head. “No,” he said, “I didn’t read them out of books. I never had a chance to go to school when I was a boy. I tell you these stories just as they were told to me by my mother when I was as small as you are. And she couldn’t read either, so somebody must have told them to her. Not everything comes from books, you see.”
“Yes,” said Doña Teresa. “I heard them [p 53] from my mother when I was a child, and she couldn’t read any more than Pancho and I can. But with these children here it will be different. They can get stories from you, and out of the books too. It is a great thing to have learning, though a peon can get along with very little of it, praise God.”
Up to this time Pancho had not said a single word. He had brought sticks for the fire and had listened silently to the stories; but now he spoke.
“When the peons get enough learning, they will learn not to be peons at all,” he said.
“But whatever will they be then?” gasped Doña Teresa. “Surely they must be whatever the good God made them, and if they are born peons—”
She stopped and looked a little alarmed, as if she thought perhaps after all it might be as well for Tonio and Tita to be like most of the people she knew—quite unable to read or write.
[p 54]
She crossed herself, and snatched Tita to her breast.
“You shall not learn enough to make you fly away from the nest, my bird!” she said.
Then Pancho spoke again. “With girls it does not matter,” he said. “Girls do not need to know any thing but how to grind corn and make tortillas, and mind the babies—that is what girls are for. But boys—boys will be men and—” But here it seemed to occur to him that perhaps he was saying too much, and he became silent again.
José had listened thoughtfully, and when Pancho finished he sighed a little and made a soft little “ting-ting-a-ting-ting” on his guitar-strings. Then he jumped up and began to sing and dance, playing the guitar all the while. It was a song about the little dwarfs, and the children loved it.
“Oh, how pretty are the dwarfs,
The little ones, the Mexicans!
Out comes the pretty one,
Out comes the ugly one,
Out comes the dwarf with his jacket of skin.”
[p 55]
José sang,—and every time he came to the words,—
“Out comes the little one,
Out comes the pretty one,”
he stooped down as he danced and made himself look as much like a dwarf as he possibly could.
When he had finished the Dwarf Song, José tucked his guitar under his arm, and bowed politely to Doña Teresa and Pancho.
“Adios!” he said. “May you rest well.”
“Adios, adios!” shouted all the children.
And Pancho and Doña Teresa and the Twins replied: “Adios! God give you sweet sleep.”
Then José and the children went away, and the tinkle of the guitar grew fainter and fainter in the distance. When they could no longer hear it, Doña Teresa went into the cabin, unrolled the mats, and laid out the pillows, and soon the Twins and their father and mother were all sound asleep on their hard beds.
[p 56]
When at last everything was quiet, the red rooster came stepping round from behind the house, and looked at the dying coals of the fire as if he wondered whether they were good to eat. He seemed to think it best not to risk it, however, for he flew up into the fig tree once more and settled himself for the night.
[p 57]
IV
TONIO’S BAD DAY
[p 59]
IV
TONIO’S BAD DAY
I
It is hard for us to understand how they tell what season it is in a country like Mexico, where there is no winter, and no snow except on the tops of high mountains, and where flowers bloom all the year round.
Tonio and Tita can tell pretty well by the way they go to school. During the very hot dry weather of April and May there is vacation. In June, when the rainy season begins, school opens again. Then, though the rain pours down during some part of every day or night, in between times the sky is so blue, and the sunshine so bright, and the air so sweet, that the Twins like the rainy season really better than the dry.
If you should pass the open door of their school some day when it is in session, you [p 60] would hear a perfect Babel of voices all talking at once and saying such things as this,—only they would say them in Spanish instead of English,—
“The cat sees the rat. Run, rat, run. Two times six is thirteen, two times seven is fifteen” (I hope you’d know at once that that was wrong). “Mexico is bounded on the north by the United States of America, on the east by the Gulf of Mexico, on the west by the Pacific Ocean, on the … Cortez conquered Mexico in 1519 and brought the holy Catholic religion to Mexico. The Church is …”
Then perhaps you would clap your hands on your ears and think the whole school had gone crazy, but it would only mean that in Mexico the children all study aloud. The sixth grade is as high as any one ever goes, and most of them stop at the fourth.
Señor Fernandez thinks that is learning enough for any peon, and as it is his school, and his teacher, and his land, of course things have to be as he says.
[p 61]
Pancho asked the priest about it one day. He said: “I should like to have Tonio get as much learning as he can. Learning must be a great thing. All the rich and powerful people seem to have it. Perhaps that is what makes them rich and powerful.”
But the priest shook his head and said, “Tonio needs only to know how to be good, and obey the Church, and to read and write and count a little. More knowledge than that would make him unhappy and discontented with his lot. You do not wish to make him unhappy. Contentment with godliness is great gain. Is it not so, my son?”
The priest called everybody, even Señor Fernandez himself, “my son,” unless he was speaking to a girl or a woman, and then he said, “my daughter.”
Pancho scratched his head as if he were very much puzzled by a good many things in this world, but he only said, “Yes, little father,” very humbly, and went away to mend the gate of the calves’ corral.
[p 62]
II
I am not going to tell you very much about the Twins’ school, because the Twins didn’t care so very much about it themselves.
But I am going to tell you about one particular day, because that day a great deal happened to Tonio. Some of it wasn’t at all pleasant, but you will not be surprised at that when I explain the reason why.
A good many months had passed by since San Ramon’s Day, and it was a bright beautiful spring morning, when the Twins left their little adobe hut to go to school.
They had to be there at half past eight, and as the schoolhouse was some distance down the road and there were a great many interesting things on the way, they started rather early.
Doña Teresa gave them two tortillas apiece, rolled up with beans inside, to eat at recess, and Tonio wrapped them in a cloth and carried them in his hat just the way Pancho carried his lunch, only there was no [p 63] chile sauce, this time. Doña Teresa waved good-bye to them from the trough where she was grinding her corn.
The air was full of the sweet odor of honeysuckle blossoms, and the roadsides were gay with flowers, as the Twins walked along. The birds were flying about getting material for their nests, and singing as if they would split their little throats.
Sheep were grazing peacefully in a pasture beside the road, with their lambs gamboling about them. In a field beyond, the goats were leaping up in the air and butting playfully at each other, as if the lovely day made them feel lively too. Calves were bleating in the corrals, and away off on the distant hillside the children could see cows moving about, and an occasional flash of red when a vaquero rode along, his bright serape flying in the sun.
Farther away there were blue, blue mountain-peaks crowned with glistening snow, and from one of them a faint streak of white smoke rose against the blue of the sky. It [p 64] was a beautiful morning in a beautiful world where it seemed as if every one was meant to be happy and good.
The school was not far from the gate where José, the gate-keeper, sat all day, waiting to open and close the gate for cowboys as they drove the cattle through.
The Twins stopped to speak to José, and [p 65] just then on a stone right beside the gate Tonio saw a little green lizard taking a sun bath. He was about six inches long and he looked like a tiny alligator.
Tonio crept up behind him very quietly and as quick as a flash caught him by the tail. Just then the teacher rang the bell, and the Twins ran along to join the other children at the schoolhouse door, but not one of them, not even Tita herself, knew that Tonio had that green lizard in his pocket!
Tonio didn’t wear any clothes except a thin white cotton suit, and he could feel the lizard squirming round in his pocket. Tonio didn’t like tickling, and the lizard tickled like everything.
As they came into the schoolroom, the boys took off their hats and said, “God give you good day,” to the Señor Maestro[11]—that is what they called the teacher.
Then they hung their hats on nails in the wall, while the girls curtsied to the teacher and went to their seats.
[p 66]
When they were all in their places and quiet, the Señor Maestro stood up in front of the school, and raised his hand. At once all the children knelt down beside their seats. The Maestro knelt too, put his hands together, bowed his head, and said a prayer. He was right in the middle of the prayer when the lizard tickled so awfully in Tonio’s pocket that Tonio,—I really hate to have to tell it, but facts are facts,—Tonio laughed—aloud!
Then he was so scared, and so afraid he would laugh again if the lizard kept on tickling, that he put his hand in his pocket and took it out. Kneeling in front of Tonio was a boy named Pablo, and the bare soles of his feet were turned up in such a way that Tonio just couldn’t help dropping the lizard on to them.
The lizard ran right up Pablo’s leg, inside his cotton trousers, and Pablo let out a yell like a wild Indian on the warpath, and began to act as if he had gone crazy.
He jumped up and danced about clutching [p 67] his clothes, and screaming! The Señor Maestro and the children were perfectly amazed. They couldn’t think what ailed Pablo until, all of a sudden, the green lizard dropped on the floor out of his sleeve and scuttled as fast as it could toward the girls’ side of the room. Then the girls screamed and stood on their seats until the lizard got out of sight.