The Argosy — page 327: what you’re looking at

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

304 Letters from Majorca. canaries sang, but their most appreciative listener was not there to hear them. ‘To-day, however, we had come for the sake of the drive; to show Dr. Fitzgilbert some of the chief beauties of the island—and of the world. For three things area spiritual delight : to discourse sweet music to an appreciative ear; to read an exquisite poem to a charmed soul; to share the beauties of nature with one who loves them. Whilst a fourth embodies them all, excels them all: the strength, unity, and immortality of perfect friendship. But this, as Shelley Says, 1S too rare. Again the guardians of the hospiteria were full of welcome. They are simple, worthy folk; and by a little kindly interest, one had unconsciously made an impression upon them which had survived the test of a six months’ absence. ‘They spread our feast and served us. to the best of their ability. Even pressed upon us the strong waters. of their anisette, at which we were obliged to draw the line. Once we had found a treasure in the old boatman’s keg at Manacor, of which H.C. had taken the oyster and left me the shell; but we never found the like again. The anisette of Mallorca is to be avoided. On the other hand, if you only grow used to it, it becomes a snare, though by no means a delusion. Our frugal repast ended, we went down to Miramar. An old woman insisted upon accompanying us, as if we did not know the way by heart. But from the glances she threw at the doctor, it was evident that she thought if he was not a prince in disguise, he ought tobe. Then she sighed frequently, as she remembered the days when she too was young. Such an old woman! She looked at least a hundred-and-fifty ; had the face and expression of an eagle; and in years long past must have been comely. Her eyes were still brightand kindly. Her long grey hair, disturbed by the breeze, gave her an almost wild, witch-like appearance. She went ahead with a firm, vigorous tread: H. C.’s irritating regulation step, with perhaps an inch or two added to it. Her form was upright, almost commanding; her shoulders were square, her back was not bent with age. She would have served for a Mallorcan Joan of Arc; would have looked well at the head ofa regiment of soldiers, and have led them on to victory or death. There was power, determination, unflinching purpose in her every line. Her clothes fluttered and flapped in the wind as she walked. After this description, you will wonder in what way she showed her age. In the extremely lined, withered, and wrinkled appearance of the face ; the seams that crossed and criss-crossed each other upon her weather-beaten, time-worn countenance. It is a condition seldom seen except in those who all their days have lived hard lives and fared frugally. And these people in Mallorca exist chiefly upon coarse bread, water and olives, a few beans, a little of the fruits of the earth, Meat is unknown to them; tea, coffee, and milk are equally luxuries to them. Imagine such privation. Itneedsa happy CONMICLOOOKS. © m