you see an incompetent
presentment of the senorita in her professional garb and pose.
Irresistible, in black lace and yellow ribbons, she faces you; a blue
racer is spiralled upon each bare arm; coiled twice about her waist
and once about her neck, his horrid head close to hers, you perceive
Kuku, the great eleven-foot Asian python.

A hand drew aside the curtain that partitioned the car, and a middle-
aged, faded woman holding a knife and a half-peeled potato looked in
and said:

"Alviry, are you right busy?"

"I'm reading the home paper, ma. What do you think! that pale, tow-
headed Matilda Price got the most votes in the /News/ for the
prettiest girl in Gallipo--/lees/."

"Shush! She wouldn't of done it if /you'd/ been home, Alviry. Lord
knows, I hope we'll be there before fall's over. I'm tired gallopin'
round the world playin' we are dagoes, and givin' snake shows. But
that ain't what I wanted to say. That there biggest snake's gone
again. I've looked all over the car and can't find him. He must have
been gone an hour. I remember hearin' somethin' rustlin' along the
floor, but I thought it was you."

"Oh, blame that old rascal!" exclaimed the Queen, throwing down her
paper. "This is the third time he's got away. George never /will/
fasten down the lid to his box properly. I do believe he's /afraid/ of
Kuku. Now I've got to go hunt him."

"Better hurry; somebody might hurt him."

The Queen's teeth showed in a gleaming, contemptuous smile. "No
danger. When they see Kuku outside they simply scoot away and buy
bromides. There's a crick over between here and the river. That old
scamp'd swap his skin any time for a drink of running water. I guess
I'll find him there, all right."

A few minutes later Alvarita stopped upon the forward platform, ready
for her quest. Her handsome black skirt was shaped to the most recent
proclamation of fashion. Her spotless shirt-waist gladdened the eye in
that desert of sunshine, a swelling oasis, cool and fresh. A man's
split-straw hat sat firmly on her coiled, abundant hair. Beneath her
serene, round, impudent chin a man's four-in-hand tie was jauntily
knotted about a man's high, stiff collar. A parasol she carried, of
white silk, and its fringe was lace, yellowly genuine.

I will grant Gallipolis as to her costume, but firmly to Seville or
Valladolid I am held by her eyes; castanets, balconies, mantillas,
serenades, ambuscades, escapades--all these their dark depths
guaran