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 (vĭz´ĭ gŏths) 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.
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 assure 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.
"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.
But her brother did not move. He only stood, scowling down at her. Then he continued to talk in that low, frightening voice.
"Do you know," he said, "that you have brought terrible misfortune upon us, Lira?"
Lira felt the hot tears begin to sting her eyes again. So he, too, was going to scold her for losing the castanets! But suddenly he took a step toward her and, thrusting his face close to hers, said, "The Visigoths are coming to drive us away from our homes!"
Lira began to tremble. Those terrifying savages! She knew that they had been sweeping her country, destroying everything in their path. Now they were about to descend upon her home. And it was all her fault – hers! She sobbed and clung to her brother.
"Oh, why did I do it?" she cried. "Why did I hide the castanets?"
Her brother put his hand under her chin and lifted her head so that their eyes met.
"Are you sorry, little sister?" he asked kindly.
Lira's answer was a pitiful wail.
"Will you ever tell another untruth?"
"No, no, never, as long as I live!"
"Will you remember the jingle about the castanets?"
"Yes, yes! Always and forever!"
"And will you work hard and learn to dance and carry on our mother's art?"
"Yes, yes! Oh, I will try so hard!"
"Then – look, sister!"
And to her amazement, Lira's brother held out the magic castanets. He had been watching when she hid them. And when she had gone into the cave, he had played a trick upon her by taking them away.
It was a trick that Lira never forgot – never, though she lived to be very old. All her life she treasured the magic castanets and never again did she lose sight of them.
But something else she did lose, and that was her round little figure. Indeed, she became lovely and slender. She also became a famous dancer, and one day she taught her own children the dances of Spain.
CHAPTER IV
THE SOUVENIRS SPEAK
Pilar was on her way to Juan's shop on the Street of the Serpents. In her hand were those magic castanets. She was taking them to Juan. She was going to sell them.
She passed the lovely Alcazar (äl-kä´thär) Gardens, from which came the perfume of flowers and blossoms. She heard the soft voice of bells from the Giralda, a prayer tower which had belonged to an ancient Moorish mosque (mŏsk).
In a little square, some of Pilar's friends were dancing to the music of a hurdy-gurdy. Pilar stopped. How she longed to join them in their dance!
The thought came to her that she had never tried her mother's castanets. She wondered how they would sound. She fixed them on her fingers and began to play.
Their beauty astonished her. They spoke. They sang. They cried out to her feet and she danced. She danced until she was breathless and the hurdy-gurdy had gone away. So had the children – gone to their homes.
Pilar was alone. She stood in the center of the little court, its white, balconied houses all around, and its ancient fountain squatting in the center.
But to Pilar, time had not passed. She had been in a dream of music. The castanets had drawn her into a dream of music and dance.
Now she slowly unloosed them from her fingers. Never had she known that such beautiful sound could come from two wooden clappers. Why, her own little cheap ones were hideous and shrill beside these speaking marvels.
How could she give them up? How could she take them to Juan to be sold? No, no! She must keep them. She must keep them and dance every day to their rippling music.
But Juan had given her money, for which she had promised to bring him the castanets. And it would never do to give Juan her own instead, for that would be cheating.
But there were other lovely souvenirs in her chest at home. Perhaps Juan would as soon have one of these!
Pilar went home, and once again she knelt down beside the wooden chest. Out came each precious souvenir. Which should she take to Juan in place of the castanets?
If those souvenirs could have spoken, what strangely wonderful stories they could have told!
Pretend, for fun, that they can speak, and let us listen to their ancient voices.
The Sharp Knife From Toledo
"I am a knife – a very sharp knife. I was made in Toledo, which is said to be the oldest town in Spain.
"Toledo sits proudly upon a granite throne, like some weatherbeaten queen. The River Tagus (tā´gŭs) laps about her feet as though to wash away the dust of ages.
"There are Arab stories in the ancient streets of Toledo. Once it was an important center of the Romans, the Goths, and then the Moors.
"The cathedral is supposed to be the richest in the world. It contains a room with massive doors, to which six keys must be used before one may enter. In this room are the priceless jewels of the Madonna.
"I am made of the celebrated Damascus (dȧ-măs´kŭs) steel. I have a beautiful design worked into my handle. Ages ago, this art, which is called Damascene (dăm´ȧ-sēn) work, was brought from the city of Damascus.
"I have a very dangerous temper and when I am angered, I bite. So be careful, for I am a very sharp knife."
The Proud Comb From Barcelona
"I am a tall, elegant comb, and my home is Barcelona (bär´sĕ-lō´nȧ), the most important city in Spain. Oh, dear! There goes Madrid, howling at me again! Whenever I say that Barcelona is more important, the city of Madrid creates the most frightful row.
"It is jealousy, of course. For even if she is the capital of Spain, she is not so wonderful as Barcelona. At least, that is what we who live here think. And perhaps I can convince you, too, if you will go for a walk with me.
"Just think! I am honoring you by inviting you to walk with me through Barcelona, Spain's most important – oh, all right, then, Spain's most modern city!
"Shall we start from the harbor? It is the chief port of Spain. Do you see that fine monument of Christopher Columbus over there?
"Now we shall stroll along the celebrated Rambla. Is this not a handsome promenade, with its flowers and trees? Would you like to sit here at a little table and sip some chocolate?
"They say that Barcelona has more sidewalk cafés than any other city its size in Europe. You see, we know how to enjoy ourselves. Yet we are not lazy. No, indeed! We are most active. Why, Barcelona never sleeps.
"We are situated on the blue Mediterranean Sea. Not far from the city, there is a wonderful monastery called Montserrat (mŏnt´sĕ-răt´). It is perched high up amid a mystic forest of stony crags.
"Montserrat is the shrine of the Black Virgin, a sacred carving. The story goes when the Moors held Spain, this carving was hidden in a cave. Many years later, it was found by shepherds who heard weird music near by.
"They tried to move the Black Virgin, but could not, and so a church was built to hold it. Today great crowds swarm up the mountain to see the sacred carving.
"But now I shall have to leave you. I could show you much more, of course, but there might be an objection if I did. You ask why? Because a certain city I know would be afraid that you might agree with me that Barcelona is more important than she is!"
The Lazy Clock From El Escorial
"I am an old clock. I used to sit upon a shelf in one of the most curious castles in Spain – El Escorial (ĕl ĕs-kō´rĭ-ăl). It was built by King Philip II.
"King Philip built El Escorial as his tomb. Today, it stands a gray and gloomy monument upon a barren hill, and in its vaults are buried the kings and queens of Spain.
"Among the marble tombs, there is one which looks like a round, white birthday cake. It is the tomb of the children – young princes and princesses.
"King Philip watched the building of this immense palace from a rocky seat on a hill above. And later when he was very ill, he used to lie in his bedroom next to the chapel and listen to the church services.
"Ho, hum! I am a sleepy, lazy old clock. But then, all clocks in Spain grow lazy, for we are seldom used. Everybody is always late.
"Yet here is a funny thing. I have been told that Spain produces more quicksilver than any other country. Think of that! Quicksilver!"
The Faded Fan From Valladolid
"I am a fan. I belonged to a lady who lived in the town of Valladolid (väl´yä-thō̍-lēth´). It was built by a Moor named Olid, and was called Valle de Olid, Valley of Olid.
"The names of many important men are connected with Valladolid. King Philip II was born there. The Catholic monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella, were married there. Cervantes (sẽr-văn´tēz), the author of 'Don Quixote' (dō̍n kē̍-hō´tā̍), that famous Spanish romance, lived there; and Christopher Columbus died there."
The Saucy Bonnet From Segovia
"I am a bonnet, and I am very proud of myself because I am a beautiful creation. I am also very proud to think that I was born in the marvelous city of Segovia (sā̍-gō´vyä).
"Segovia has a Roman aqueduct which is one of the most remarkable of its kind in the world. It is sometimes called the Devil's Bridge, because a legend tells that Satan built it in a single night.
"There is also the famous Alcazar, an ancient castle set high upon a sharp cliff. It was built in the eleventh century by King Alfonso VI. Besides these marvels, Segovia has many fine churches and castles and cathedrals.
"How do I, a mere bonnet, know all these things? Ah, let me tell you this: I am not only very handsome; I am extremely wise."
Next day Pilar brought Juan these souvenirs. But it was of no use. Juan would not have any of them. He shook his head and told Pilar that he could not rob her of her wonderful treasures.
"You must bring me the old castanets, child," he said. "They are all that I will take."
Pilar begged and coaxed, but Juan was very stubborn.
"No, child," he repeated, "These are too fine and valuable to sell. Bring me the battered old castanets, for they have little value."
Poor Pilar! She now sat weeping in her room – weeping silently so as not to disturb her sick grandfather, who slept a great part of the day.
She held the castanets in her hands and looked at them tenderly. Juan had said that they possessed little value. Oh, but they did possess value to Pilar, for she loved them.
As to their real value, neither Pilar nor Juan could possibly guess. For though the other souvenirs might bring more in money, the castanets might well bring joy or grief to their owner. Or, at least, so it had seemed to Pilar's ancestors.
However, Pilar had given her word to Juan that she would bring them to his shop tomorrow, and so she must. If only Juan had heard the terrible tale of the castanets in old Granada (grȧ-nä´dȧ), he would not have held Pilar to her promise.