egan to play the
long prelude to the couplet; the old woman clapped her hands and
occasionally uttered a raucous cry. The poetess gazed into the air for
inspiration. The guitarist twanged on, and in the audience there were
scattered cries of _Ole!_ Her companions began to look at the singer
anxiously, for the muse was somewhat slow; and she patted her knee and
groaned; at last she gave a little start and smiled. _Ole! Ole!_ The
inspiration had come. She gave a moan, which lengthened into the
characteristic trill, and then began the couplet, beating time with her
hands. Such an one as this:

Suspires que de mi salgan,
Y otros que de ti saldran,
Si en el camino se encuentran
Que de cosas se diran!

_If all the sighs thy lips now shape_
_Could meet upon the way_
_With those that from mine own escape_
_What things they'd have to say!_

She finished, and all three rose from their chairs and withdrew them,
but it was only a false exit; immediately the applause grew clamorous
they sat down again, and the little fat man repeated his introduction.

But this time there was no waiting. The singer had noticed a well-known
bull-fighter and quickly rolled off a couplet in his praise. The
subject beamed with delight, and the general enthusiasm knew no bounds.
The people excitedly threw their hats on the stage, and these were
followed by a shower of coppers, which the performers, more heedful to
the compensation of Art than to its dignity, grovelled to picked up.

* * *

Here is a lover's praise of the whiteness of his lady's skin:

La neve por tu cara
Paso diciendo:
En donde no hago falta
No me detengo.

_Before thy brow the snow-flakes_
_Hurry past and say:_
_'Where we are not needed,_
_Wherefore should we stay?'_

And this last, like the preceding translated by Mr. Crombie, shows once
more how characteristic are Murillo's Holy Families of the popular
sentiment:

La Virgen lava la ropa,
San Jose la esta tendiendo,
Santa Ana entretiene el nino,
Y el agua se va riendo.

_The Virgin is washing the clothes at the brook._
_And Saint Joseph hangs them to dry._
_Saint Anna plays with the Holy Babe,_
_And the water flows smiling by._

XXXVII

[Sidenote: Jerez]

Jerez is the Andalusian sunshine again after the dark clouds of Granada.
It is a little town in the middle of a fertile plain, clean and
comfortable and spacious. It is one of