He
had an easy sleek mule for his riding, a matronly housekeeper
skilled in preparing tit-bits for his table, and the pet lamb, to
smooth his pillow at night and bring him his chocolate in the morning.
Adieu now to the gay, thoughtless life of the student; the side
glance of a bright eye had been the undoing of him. Day and night he
could not get the image of this most modest damsel out of his mind. He
sought the mansion of the padre. Alas! it was above the class of
houses accessible to a strolling student like himself. The worthy
padre had no sympathy with him; he had never been Estudiante
sopista, obliged to sing for his supper. He blockaded the house by
day, catching a glance of the damsel now and then as she appeared at a
casement; but these glances only fed his flame without encouraging his
hope. He serenaded her balcony at night, and at one time was flattered
by the appearance of something white at a window. Alas, it was only
the nightcap of the padre.
Never was lover more devoted, never damsel more shy: the poor
student was reduced to despair. At length arrived the eve of St. John,
when the lower classes of Granada swarm into the country, dance away
the afternoon, and pass midsummer's night on the banks of the Darro
and the Xenil. Happy are they who on this eventful night can wash
their faces in those waters just as the Cathedral bell tells midnight;
for at that precise moment they have a beautifying power.
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