"MY

Y liddle hacienda iss very becoming to the Señora Pascala, nicht wahr?" It was Schwartz who spoke. We had seated ourselves on the wide, tile-paved gallery, Schwartz, Passos, Barzilla, and I, ostensibly to watch the gorgeous passing of the day. The upper air was still luminous, and high in its white radiance a single vulture, like a tiny, black scroll, seemed painted on the sky; to the east, the violet peaks of the Andes rose as insubstantial as clouds: but the clumps of greenery below the house looked almost black, and in the hush of the twilight, as she moved about the lawn, the laugh of the Señora Pascala came up to us like the sound of a silver bell. She wore a crimson gown, with a black mantilla over her hair, and I fancy our interest in the twilight had paled before the charming picture she made.

Somewhere on the lawn below her, screened from us by the shrubbery, were seated her daughter and Captain Miranda, and it was with them that she talked as she moved from flower to flower. Two days before we had driven out from Pasaquimento with Schwartz, and it was

vaguely understood to be our last holiday together before the marriage of Captain Miranda and the Señora Pascala, and their departure on

his vessel for

his home in the Cape Verd Islands. It was the hour for sentiment.

We murmured a heartfelt assent to Schwartz's query, and he, nodding his head, went on:

"Lieber Gott! does she nodt make it to blossom like the rose? Dere iss no more the loneliness."

"But when she shall go backward to Pasaquimento, shall it not be of a loneliness the more sadder?" suggested Passos.

"I t'ink dat also," acquiesced Schwartz. "Yas, dat iss so. The hacienda shall be lonely; but dat picture I shall haf mit me."

Drawn by Charles J. Post

He moved his head toward the shadowed lawn, where, at that moment, the Señora Pascala was bending above a tall, white flower like a lily, her face, in the

Drawn by Charles J. Post

"WITH AN UNERRING INSTINCT FOR LOST CAUSES"

dusk, like another lily there.

In upon our melancholy contemplation -three of us had been her lovers-a series of shrieks arose from the rear of the house, and into our view across the side lawn swept what must have been the entire staff of the kitchen. There was a huddle of flying skirts bunched together, and then they went on in full cry, disappearing in the dusk amid the shrubbery that screened the outbuildings from sight. Intermingled with the treble of feminine voices I fancied I caught the distracted cries of frightened fowl. For a moment Schwartz stood at gaze, then, with a guttural, "Lieber Gott!" ponderously took up the chase.

For twenty minutes we saw him no more, and then, as he came wearily up the slope and into the light of the open door, we saw dolor and wrath on his countenance. He paused before us.

"Mein frients," he said brokenly, "der supper haf run avay!"

There came a smothered giggle from the Señora Pascala, from which I decorously tried to draw attention by remark

ing that it must have been uncommonly scared; but Schwartz was past all levity.

"Dose lazy hussies in der kitchen haf kilt dose hens not till alretty joost now," he explained, "und now dey ledt dem slip from der box avay. Dey are running alretty yet."

66

"Caramba! are they not some more hen' to the hacienda?" exclaimed the senora. "Possibly those shall not be so scare'."

"Efery one roosts in der trees," explained Schwartz, hopelessly, "und der poys haf gone to der fiesta."

"Aha!" cried the señora, delightedly, "we shall make the hunt for those supper. Tha''s ver' great pleasure, yas."

Spurred on by her enthusiasm, we set forth, armed with sticks, and speedily came to the region that Schwartz assured us was the roosting-place for his fowl. It was now dark, and we moved about under the trees, followed by a sort of hysterical Greek chorus from the maids, who seemed bent on convincing us that the supper had itself broken jail: the three hens had flown out of the box just as Maria Josefa had gone for a knife; and there was not a hole in the box that one could put his hand through.

"May St. Lawrence broil me on my own gridiron if that is not just as I say," piously declared Maria Josefa, with her hands under her apron.

We heard a smothered squawk, an exultant shout from Passos, and we hurried to meet that gentleman as he came toward us out of the dusk, waving a fluttering thing. We clustered about him, and I lighted a match. In the light it cast there came to view a huge cock with a battered comb.

Maria Josefa threw her apron over her head, laughing hysterically.

"It is Chito himself, the great-grandfather of all the flock," she explained in Spanish, and the señora obligingly translated for me. "Ah, Señores, he is oldolder than I, who am no chicken. would broil like a stone."

He

"It is the will of God that we kill not His creatures," piously exclaimed Carlota. "Is it not already proved?"

Schwartz turned fiercely upon the chattering maids.

"To the house go alretty!" he stormed. "You have scared all mit der tongue."

"I, too, shall go to help with those sup

Barzilla, with the stout man's secret ambition for agility, had somehow mounted into a tree; but, with an unerring instinct for lost causes, had selected a thorny one. For twenty minutes the time of the entire party was consumed in extricating him, when he retired from the hunt, thoroughly convinced that Carlota was no mean prophet.

Passos meanwhile had again come upon his first quarry, and being convinced at last that it was indeed the aged Chito, was only restrained from stamping out the life of the creature by the dissuading hand and voice of Captain Miranda.

"Do nothing in the anger, Señor," Captain Miranda had gently chided. "Even to the old life is sweet."

It was growing darker, but coming to a bare tree at the edge of the plantation,

one shall be yours, the most nearer, mine. Try not for too much. The greedy hand sticks in the jar, you know, Señor."

We were successful, and with a shout came to earth, and with the now happy Schwartz set out for the house. At the door of the kitchen the smiling señora met us, the eager maids at her shoulders.

"Caramba! you have succeed'!" she cried, and leaned forward eagerly. Then we saw her hands go up to her face; an unmistakable giggle escaped her. Captain Miranda and I glanced down quickly, and with a single impulse threw our captives from us. We had brought in two turkey buzzards.

""T is the will of God, like Carlota declare'," the señora assured us, solemnly, though her eyes were dancing. "Yet shall you have the nice supper. "'T is prepare'. You all ver' hongry with so ver' hard working, yas?"

It was indeed a good supper, and though it began in silence, grew gay at the close. Only Schwartz would not be comforted, and when he, Barzilla, and I at last withdrew to the cool gallery, he turned to us gravely, saying:

"It iss not goot for man the house to keep, no. Of dat he knows noddings. But the Señora Pascala! Himmel! dat iss a voman! Alretty haf I said I shall to Chermany return; now I go. But der liddle hacienda shall I gif to the señora. Iss it not becoming to her? Herein shall she remain mit der captain."

"Hola! some wedding-gift!" murmured Barzilla.

"Dat iss it, dat iss it," cried Schwartz -"the vedding-gift! 'T iss petter than to sell for noddings."

"But she goes to the Cape Verd, you know," I suggested, amused at the absurdity of a fancy that so patently ignored the señora's future.

Barzilla. "Tell Does not the se

"When?" demanded me that, Señor; when? ñor capitan bec-ome ver' tiresome bec-ause she manufac' so longly the delay? Does not his ship wait, so long ready to sail? Aha! I shall make the explain: the señora is scare' of those sea', yas. With so nice wedding-gift, she shall say: 'Señor Capitan, I will remain by the nice present. Shall he not You going remain also?"

un'stand tha' 's ver' wise?

Sure-lee. A