y curates and country lasses. Never had he touched his guitar
with such skill; never had he poured forth more soul-moving
ditties, but he had no longer a country curate or country lass to
deal with. The worthy priest evidently did not relish music, and
the modest damsel never raised her eyes from the ground. They
remained but a short time at the fountain; the good padre hastened
their return to Granada. The damsel gave the student one shy glance
in retiring; but it plucked the heart out of his bosom!

"He inquired about them after they had gone. Padre Tomas was one
of the saints of Granada, a model of regularity; punctual in his
hour of rising; his hour of taking a paseo for an appetite; his
hours of eating; his hour of taking his siesta; his hour of playing
his game of tresillo, of an evening, with some of the dames of the
cathedral circle; his hour of supping, and his hour of retiring to
rest, to gather fresh strength for another day's round of similar
duties. He had an easy sleek mule for his riding; a matronly
housekeeper skilled in preparing tidbits for his table; and the
pet-lamb, to smooth his pillow at night and bring him his chocolate
in the morning.

"Adieu now to the gay, thoughtless life of the student; the
side-glance of a bright eye had been the undoing of him. Day and
night he could not get the image of this most modest damsel out of
his mind. He sought the mansion of the padre. Alas! it was above
the class of houses accessible to a strolling student like himself.
The worthy padre had no sympathy with him; he had never been
_Estudiante sopista_, obliged to sing for his supper. He blockaded
the house by day, catching a glance of the damsel now and then as
she appeared at a casement; but these glances only fed his flame
without encouraging his hope. He serenaded her balcony at night,
and at one time was flattered by the appearance of something white
at a window. Alas, it was only the night-cap of the padre.

"Never was lover more devoted; never damsel more shy: the poor
student was reduced to despair. At length arrived the eve of St.
John, when the lower classes of Granada swarm into the country,
dance away the afternoon, and pass midsummer's night on the banks
of the Darro and the Xenil. Happy are they who on this eventful
nigh