Trooper Tales — page 243: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

St oe i ee ea ee ai et A SOLDIER AND A MAN A certain trooper riding through the poverty district of Ciales with a main guard detail, glanced at a native senorita whose features were pretty. Since the senorita glanced back, the trooper smiled, as any other American soldier would have done. It was only the smile of a second on the part of the soldier, because there was some- thing about the face of the red maiden which was like the scratch of a pin upon the naked nerve. The next day when the main guard was relieved, if you had ques- tioned the cavalryman concerning the circumstance, he would have remembered it with difficulty, because it made no impression. But the red maiden did not forget. At the moment, the smile of the soldier was a thrill to her, and in the night it became a dream, and the next day it was a mem- ory—restless, imperious, passionate. Her name was Eulalie. If she ever had another, she did not remember it any more than she remembered who her father and her mother were. Nor would she have cared had not the other senoritas in the poverty district reminded her day after day that her family was a name- less thing. Because the other senoritas were at least posi- Gomicdooks.Gco