"SHE WAS A PICTURE OF YOUTH, BEAUTY AND GRACE."
The round harvest moon rose just at sunset. In the red-silver glow of twilight and moonlight, the cheerful workers began their tasks again. After an hour more, the husking was finished. A huge heap of golden ears gleamed in the centre of the threshing-floor. Willing hands carried these off to the barn. The threshing-floor was cleared of maize-stalks and chaff. All was ready for dancing.
First the young men and maidens formed a circle and went round and round in a merry jig. Then they danced, in groups, the bolero, a dance slow and firm in motion, with well-marked time. This was followed by a lively reel.
As the music grew louder, little Jose dared to join in with his beloved violin.
Then singing burst forth to the music, players and dancers taking part in the simple country-side melodies, until, warm and breathless, the dancers drew back to the edges of the threshing-floor. And now they began eagerly calling upon Inez Castillo for the dance she did so well.
Eighteen-year-old Inez Castillo had stood aside while the others danced. She did not like so much romping. But now she stepped forward good-naturedly at their request. Her deep black eyes glowed with the lustre of health. There was a ripe red flush upon her cheeks, an expression of gentle modesty upon face and figure.
"You play for me, Jose, you alone, please," the girl asked. She knew how perfectly in tune and in time Jose's music was.
Steadily, but rather low at first, the boy began to play. Steadily and gracefully Inez danced forth, her silver bracelets tinkling upon her wrists. Her arms and body moved in perfect time. She was a picture of youth, beauty and grace.
Jose did not think about the people listening as he drew his bow back and forth. He thought only of making his music as true as possible for Inez,—Inez who had given him his dear dog-friend Carlos.
Antonio leaned against the stone wall of the barn, watching the face of his music-loving little brother. "I must try to let the lad have some music-training," he said to himself. He watched, too, the modest, graceful dancing of Inez; and he decided that however interesting far-away America had been, his own fatherland was a goodly country.