The Argosy — page 399: what you’re looking at

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

376 Letters from Majorca. and order our supplies. He pretended to understand, shook his head wisely, declared all sorts of things, and in the end did nothing. In short he behaved very badly. But for the goodness of the Archduke we should have famished ; should not even have had bread to eat. Paolo departed in the wind and the rain. ‘They were fierce as, ever, but lightning and thunder had ceased. We went back to our room and got to our books. Presently H. C. proposed tea, but instead of the apparatus, I suggested that the old woman should boil her kettle. I went down, and came upon a very singular scene. The number of the household had beenaugmented. ‘The younger woman’s husband had come in, and also a neighbour or two for a chat. A little girl of ten or twelve years was also there. They were, most of them, seated on low chairs or stools round the charcoal pan, smoking and talking. The young woman is very civilised, and hospitably inclined. She placed a chair for me, and evidently wishedi me to join the family circle. I felt much honoured, and did so at once. ‘The situation was so unusual that it bore the greatest possible interest. It was certainly a very domestic and unceremonious scene, as you will hear. The young woman is the old woman’s daughter, and is very comely. Perhaps the old woman has also been comely in her day, but that is long past. ‘The child is the old woman’s grand-daughter, so that three generations are here represented. The girl has a brother, and a very nice young fellow into the bargain, who is a young servant of the Archduke—but this is anticipating. One or two lamps shed a partial light over the room, but this obscurity rather added to the scene. As we sat round the fire, we might have made the fortune of any painter. The young woman, compared with the others, is singularly intelligent. I easily made her understand that we wanted a kettle of boiling water, and she quickly brought it. We all held it by turns, whilst she, with a palm leaf, fanned the embers into a glow. She chattered all the time, and sometimes I understood, and sometimes I did not. It was the same on her side. Then she would laugh heartily at our blunders: our splashings and flounderings in the deep waters of signs and symbols. Not a loud laugh; but a rich, rippling, good-natured laugh, which came from the heart and indicated a broad, kindly nature. All this time the grandmother sat apart, without the charmed circle. She was busy in the domestic duty of brushing the child’s hair, of which she was evidently very proud and particular. It was immensely long and fine. She brushed and combed and combed and brushed, and the child sat it out for at least half an hour with the most exemplary patience. Then it was beautifully plaited in a plait that reached to her knees, and was tied up with ribbon. ‘The result m'ght have created envy in many a higher state of life. COMIC OOOLKS , EC)