Nan of the Gypsies

The Project Gutenberg eBook, Nan of the Gypsies, by Grace May North
E-text prepared by Stephen Hutcheson, Roger Frank, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
Five minutes later these two joyful gypsies started away in a covered wagon.
By GRACE MAY NORTH
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY Akron, Ohio New York
Copyright MCMXXVI THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING COMPANY Made in the United States of America
One glorious autumn day, when the pale mellow gold of the sunshine softened the ruggedness of the encircling mountains and lay caressingly on the gnarled live oaks, on the sky-reaching eucalyptus, and on the red-berried pepper trees, a tinkling of bells was heard on the long highway that led into the little garden village of San Seritos, half asleep by the gleaming blue Pacific. A gypsy caravan, consisting of three covered wagons drawn by teams of six mules, and followed by a string of horses, drew to one side of the road and stopped. A band of nut-brown, fox-like children scrambled down and began to race about, the older ones gathering sticks for the camp fire which they knew would soon be needed.
Four men, aquiline nosed, and with black hair hanging in ringlets to their shoulders, and as many women, gaudily dressed, with red and yellow silk handkerchiefs wound about their heads, prepared to make camp for the night.
It was a fittingly picturesque spot for a clump of gnarled live oaks grew about a spring of clear, cold water, which, fed from some hidden source, was never dry.
A quarter of a mile away lay the first of the beautiful estates and homes of Spanish architecture, for which San Seritos was far famed.
One of the gypsy women paused at her task to shade her eyes and gaze back over the highway as though expecting someone.
A mis-shapen goblin-like boy tugged on her sleeve, and with a wistful expression in his dark eyes, he whispered, “Manna Lou, Nan hasn’t run away again, has she?”