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Updated: June 4, 2025
The corroboration of one of the youngsters calling, "Mamma, come and see Pancha do like Mr. Johnson," was not needed. As softly as the caricatured tans would permit, Dry Valley tiptoed back to the gate and home again. Twenty minutes after the time appointed for the walk Panchita tripped demurely out of her gate in a thin, trim white lawn and sailor hat.
They accepted him as a decided damper, for his attempts at sportiveness were so forced that they might as well have essayed their games in a cathedral. Neither he nor any other could estimate what progress he had made with Panchita. The end came suddenly in one day, as often disappears the false afterglow before a November sky and wind.
The corroboration of one of the youngsters calling, "Mamma, come and see Pancha do like Mr. Johnson," was not needed. As softly as the caricatured tans would permit, Dry Valley tiptoed back to the gate and home again. Twenty minutes after the time appointed for the walk Panchita tripped demurely out of her gate in a thin, trim white lawn and sailor hat.
She dropped her hand to the edge of the dressing table and looked at it. Her face, with the hair strained back, the rouge gone, looked withered and yellow. Crowder eyed it anxiously. "Say, Panchita, you're sick." "Sick? Forget it! I never was better in my life." "Then why are you off your work why do you act as if you didn't care?" "Can't I have a part I hate?
"Good morning to you, Fortunata. How are you?" "All right. But Maria Antonia's got the curse today and her belly's aching something fierce." She sat Indian-fashion, with bent knees, huddling hip to hip against Panchita. "I've got no laurel leaves, honey," Remigia answered, pausing a moment in her work to push a mop of hair back from over her sweaty forehead.
"You'll not stay that way long, Panchita," he said. "You'll be on the job soon now. And what I've come to tell you will help on the good work. I've got a story for you that'll straighten out all the creases and bring you up on your feet better than a steam derrick would." "What is it?" She did not seem especially interested, her glance listless, her hand lying languid where he had dropped it.
"Sold ten head of cattle this morning, and Montrose says he'll take as many more when I'm ready for him. Great, isn't it? 'Red' been over to-day?" "Yes," answered Lucia; "and he said he was going to bring Angela and Panchita for an early supper. Says it's awful the way they've neglected us. We haven't seen them for two whole days, you know!" They both laughed.
It was nice, too, to have as good a match as Mr. Johnson paying you attentions and to see the other girls fluttering the curtains at their windows to see you go by with him. Dry Valley bought a buggy with yellow wheels and a fine trotter in San Antonio. Every day he drove out with Panchita. He was never seen to speak to her when they were walking or driving.
"Hallo, there, Remigia," another neighbor said as she came in, bowing her bony back to pass through the opening, "haven't you any laurel leaves? We want to make a potion for Maria Antonia who's not so well today, what with her bellyache." Remigia lowered her eyes to indicate that Demetrio was sleeping. "Oh, I didn't see you when I came in. And you're here too, Panchita? Well, how are you?"
"Look-a-here, Panchita," he began, but she stopped him, flapping a long hand. "Cut it out, Pop. I know all that. You needn't come any stern parent business over me. I'm on. I know my way about. I ain't going to run my head into any noose, or tie any millstone round my neck. Don't you think by this time you can trust me?" Her words seemed to reassure him. The bovine intensity of his gaze softened.
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