"There, now!"
For some seconds the girl did not speak as she gazed about her. She was standing in the center of a sort of court, which formed a plateau on the crest of the hill. All around this court were low and rudely constructed houses, whose front surfaces presented a mass of decorations, indescribably brilliant. The plaster, which seemed very smoothly and firmly made, was painted or stained in various colors as a background; and upon these surfaces were painted pictures of sacred subjects, the drawing and coloring of which were crude and fantastic beyond description, though the decorative impression was most picturesque and effective, especially with the added embellishment of the brilliant blooming plants which overflowed the boxes placed across every window. Petunias, pinks, sweet peas, poppies, geraniums, and many other plants were here massed in a riot of colors, and long sprays of vine fell down and fringed the borders of the pictures below. Every available wall space was covered by one of these pictures—the favorite subjects being the "Annunciation," the "Adoration of the Magi," the "Birth of Christ," and constantly repeated representations of the "Holy Family."
Most of the houses had two stories, and there was also a box containing the blooming plants and vines fastened over every door; and as every plant seemed at the very height of its bloom and perfection, and every picture seemed as clean and free from weather stains as if just painted, it is no wonder that Ethel received the impression so common with those who first see this brilliant spectacle.
"What is it for?" she said. "I never saw anything so decorative and brilliant, but I did not know it was any great gala day. Why didn't you tell me? And what day is it?"
"No day at all; or, rather, no gala day," said Florence.
"Then what have they done this for?"
"For religion's sake, or beauty's sake, or a mixture of the two, I suppose."
"You don't mean to say that they keep it like this all the time?"
"Yes, I do; until the frost kills the flowers, at least, and even then the pictures remain."
"And is all this done by these ignorant peasants?" asked Ethel, flushed with the delight of this new and strange impression.