The Little Spanish Dancer

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It was a pity, too, as you will agree when you have heard the legend of the castanets in old Cadiz (kăd´ĭz).

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.