The Little Spanish Dancer Part 2

"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 m.u.f.fled. 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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 a.s.sure 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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.