Madeline Brandeis

“ Pilar met Juan Sanchez at the door of his tiny shop.
"Good morning, Señorita (sā ́nyō-rē ́-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 (sā-nyōr ́) 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." ”

“ 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 [Pg 154] beast. The torero must kill or be killed. The audience is breathless. ”

“ Yet she was not altogether sure, and on the way home, Pedro talked her out of her fears.
Happily they started toward Madrid, unaware [Pg 144] of the terrible plan which this jealous torero was beginning to lay.
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. [Pg 145]
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. ”

“ 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 [Pg 12] 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. ”

“ Often she [Pg 170] 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." ”

“ 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 [Pg 151] come and she must call to him with her castanets. There is no time to lose. ”

“ 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? [Pg 146] 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. ”

“ 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. ”