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Updated: June 4, 2025
The same material covered her shoes, giving them the semblance of tan leather. High collar and flowing necktie were not omitted. Panchita was an actress. Dry Valley saw his affectedly youthful gait, his limp where the right shoe hurt him, his forced smile, his awkward simulation of a gallant air, all reproduced with startling fidelity. For the first time a mirror had been held up to him.
And won't it be nice when Pancho and Panchita are old enough to play together?" "You bet!" Gilbert agreed. He looked off at the quiet mountains, steadfast in their serenity, their crests seeming to kiss the sky. This was God's country, after all. Sometimes he could not believe that he had come so gloriously into his own.
We first sent a messenger forward, with word that we were coming, and ordered him to stay there to see that Diego did not run away or hide the idols. After supper, Doña Panchita, our company, Mr. and Mrs. Culin, and one or two others, picked our way by moonlight across the stepping-stones and foot-bridge, up a trail by coffee groves along a purling brook-side.
Panchita obeyed and walked slowly toward her home, saying nothing. For some distance she kept her head turned and her large eyes fixed intrepidly upon Dry Valley's. At her gate she stood for a moment looking back at him, then ran suddenly and swiftly into the house. Old Antonia was building a fire in the kitchen stove. Dry Valley stopped at the door and laughed harshly.
Then, plunging her two hands into a mass of corn, she removed a handful of it dripping with muddy yellowish water. "I've none at all; you'd better go to Dolores, she's always got herbs, you know." "But Dolores went to Cofradia last night. I don't know, but they say they came to fetch her to help Uncle Matias' girl who's big with child." "You don't say, Panchita?"
Francisca was putting the last stitches in her wedding-gown, and the girls were helping, advising, and commenting. "Art thou not frightened, Panchita," demanded one of the girls, "to go away and live with a strange man? Just think, thou hast seen him but ten times."
Panchita obeyed and walked slowly toward her home, saying nothing. For some distance she kept her head turned and her large eyes fixed intrepidly upon Dry Valley's. At her gate she stood for a moment looking back at him, then ran suddenly and swiftly into the house. Old Antonia was building a fire in the kitchen stove. Dry Valley stopped at the door and laughed harshly.
He stopped and looked through the honeysuckle vines in the open door. Panchita was amusing her younger brothers and sisters. She wore a man's clothes no doubt those of the late Mr. O'Brien. On her head was the smallest brother's straw hat decorated with an ink-striped paper band. On her hands were flapping yellow cloth gloves, roughly cut out and sewn for the masquerade.
And the sight of his torment coming to pester him with her elfin pranks coming to plunder his strawberry vines like a mischievous schoolboy roused all his anger. "I told you to keep away from here," said Dry Valley. "Go back to your home." Panchita moved slowly toward him. Dry Valley cracked his whip. "Go back home," said Dry Valley, savagely, "and play theatricals some more.
Mine host now lost his temper entirely, and spluttered out, as loud as he could roar, "Somos comiendo, Panchita, somos comiendo;" and forthwith, as if in spite, he began to fork up his food, until he had nearly choked himself.
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