Part 24 (1/2)
They brought with them a small bundle of clothes, a dirty poodle with a very intelligent look, and a monkey tied to a chain; in a short while they had to sell the monkey to some gipsies that lived in the Quinta de Goya.
Don Alonso called Manuel and said to him:
”Run off and hunt up Don Roberto, and tell him that there's a woman here named Rosa, and that she is or has been a circus acrobat; she must be the one he's looking for.”
At once Manuel went off to the house; Roberto had left the place and Manuel did not know his whereabouts.
Don Alonso carne frequently to the Corralon and conversed with the mother and the girl. On the window-sill of their tiny home the mother and the daughter had a little box with a sprig of mint planted in it; although they watered it every morning, it scarcely grew, for there was no sun. One day the woman and child disappeared together with their pretty poodle; they left nothing in their quarters except a worn-out, broken tambourine.
Don Alonso got into the habit of visiting the Corralon; he would exchange a few words with Rebolledo, he of the modernist barber-shop who chattered away, and would witness the gymnastic prowess of Aristas. One afternoon the boy's mother asked the former Snake-Man whether the child showed any real apt.i.tude.
Don Alonso grew serious and subjected the boy's performance to a searching examination, so that he could form an estimate of the youngster's abilities and give him a little useful advice.
It was really curious to see the former circus-player give his orders; he went through them with august seriousness.
”One, two, three.... Hop-la!... Once more, now. At position. The knees near the head ... nails down ... One, two ... one, two.... Hop-la!”
Don Alonso was not at all displeased with little Aristas' showing, but he emphasized the unavoidable necessity of continual hard practise.
”Whoever wants something has to pay the price, my little fellow,” he said. ”And the profession of gymnast isn't within everybody's reach.”
To the mother he confided that her son might some day be a fine circus artist.
Then Don Alonso, finding himself before a numerous public, would begin to talk volubly of the United States, of Mexico, and the South American republics.
”Why don't you tell us stories of the countries you've been to?” asked Perico Rebolledo.
”No, not now; I have to go out with the _Infiel_ Tower.”
”Ah! Go on, tell us,” they would all implore.
Don Alonso pretended to be importuned by the request; but when he got going, he spun one yarn after the other in such numbers that they almost had to beg him to stop.
”And didn't you ever see in those countries men who had been killed by lions?” asked Ariston.
”No.”
”Then there aren't any lions?”
”Lions in cages ... yes, a lot.”
”But I mean at liberty, in the fields.”
”In the fields? No.”
Don Alonso seemed rather provoked to make these confessions.
”No other wild beasts, either?”
”There are no longer any wild beasts in the civilized countries,” said the barber.