'round, in them pigskins, reminds me a mighty sight of that sprooce beer.Later it most likely reminds you of the pigskin.
"Mexican barkeeps, when they sells pulque, aims to dispose of it two glasses at a clatter.It gives their conceit a chance to spread itse'f an' show.The pulque is in a tub down back of the bar.This yere vain Mexican seizes two glasses between his first an' second fingers, an' with a finger in each glass.Then he dips 'em full back-handed; an' allers comes up with the back of his hand an' the two fingers covered with pulque.He claps 'em on the bar, eyes you a heap sooperior like he's askin' you to note what a acc'rate, high-grade barkeep he is, an' then raisin' his hand, he slats the pulque off his fingers into the two glasses.If he spatters a drop on the bar, it shows he's a bungler, onfit for his high p'sition, an'
oughter be out on the hills tendin' goats instead of dealin' pulque.
"What do they do with the sour pulque? Make mescal of it--a sort o'
brandy, two hookers of which changes you into a robber.No, thar's mighty few still-houses in Mexico.But that's no set-back to them Greasers when they're out to construct mescal.As a roole Mexicans is slow an oninventive; but when the question becomes the arrangement of somethin' to be drunk with, they're plenty fertile.
Jest by the way of raw material, if you'll only confer on a Mexican a kettle, a rifle bar'l, a saddle cover, an' a pigskin full of sour pulque, he'll be conductin' a mescal still in full blast at the end of the first hour.But to go back to Enright's yarn.
"'These yere pulque people,' says Enriglit, 'does a fa'rly rapid commerce.For while, as you-all may know, pulque is tame an' lacks in reebound as compared with nose-paint, still when pulque is the best thar is, the Pine Knot Cavaliers of the Plaza Perdita invests heavily tharin.That pulque's jest about a stand-off for the chaplain's sermons."'It's the fourth trip of the pulque sellers, when the Donna Anna shows in the door.The Donna Anna arrives with 'em; an' the way she bosses 'round, an' sets fire to them pulque slaves, notifies me they're the Donna Anna's peonies."'I'm sort o'
pervadin' about the plaza when the Donna Anna rides up.Thar's an old she-wolf with her whose name is Magdalena.I'm not myse'f what they calls in St.Looey a "connoshur" of female loveliness, an' it's a pity now that some gifted gent like Doc Peets yere don't see this Donna Anna that time, so's he could draw you her picture, verbal.
All I'm able to state is that she's as beautiful as a cactus flower, an' as vivid.She's tall an' strong for a Mexican, with a voice like velvet, graceful as a mountain lion, an' with eyes that's soft an'
deep an' black, like a deer's.She's shorely a lovely miracle, the Donna Anna is, an' as dark an' as warm an' as full of life as a night in Joone.She's of the grande, for the mule she's ridin', gent-fashion, is worth forty ponies.Its coat is soft, an' shiny like this yere watered silk, while its mane an' tail is braided with a hundred littler silver bells.The Donna Anna is dressed half Mexican an' half Injun, an' thar's likewise a row of bells about the wide brim of her Chihuahua hat.
"'Thar's mebby a half-dozen of us standin' 'round when the Donna Anna comes up.Nacherally, we-all is interested.The Donna Anna, bein' only eighteen an' a Mexican, is not abashed.She waves her hand an' says, "How! how!" Injun fashion.an' gives us a white flash of teeth between her red lips.Then a band of nuns comes out of a little convent, which is one of the public improvements of the Plaza Perdita, an' they rounds up the Donna Anna an' the wrinkled Magdalena, an' takes 'em into camp.The Donna Anna an' the other is camped in the convent doorin' the visit.No, they're not locked up nor gyarded, an' the Donna Anna comes an' goes in an' out of that convent as free as birds.The nuns, too, bow before her like her own peonies.
"'Thar's a Lootenant Jack Spencer with us; he hails from further up the Cumberland than me--some'ers near Nashville.He's light-ha'red an' light-hearted, Spencer is; an' as straight an' as strong as a pine-tree.S'ciety ain't throwin' out no skirmish lines them days, an' of course Spencer an' the Donna Anna meets up with each other;an' from the onbroken hours they tharafter proceeds to invest in each other's company, one is jestified in assoomin' they experiences a tender interest.The Donna Anna can't talk Americano, but Spencer is a sharp on Spanish; an' you can bet a pony, if he wasn't, he'd set to studyin' the language right thar.
"'Nothin' much is thought by the Pine Knot Cavaliers of an'
concernin' the attitoodes of Spencer an' the Donna Anna touchin' one another.
Love it might be, an' less we cares for that.Our army, when it ain't fightin', is makin' love throughout the entire Mexican War;an' by the time we're at the Plaza Perdita, love, mere everyday love, either as a emotion or exhibition, is plenty commonplace.An'
so no one is interested, an' no one keeps tabs on Spencer an' the Donna Anna.
Which, if any one had, he'd most likely got ag'inst Spencer's gun;wharfore, it's as well mebby that this yere lack-luster feelin'
prevails.
"'It's about the tenth day sicice the Donna Anna gladdens us first.
Orders comes up from Vera Cruz for the Pine Knot Cavaliers to come down to the coast an' embark for New Orleans.The word is passed, an' our little jimcrow camp buzzes like bees, with us gettin' ready to hit the trail.Spencer asks "leave;" an' then saddles up an'
starts at once.He says he's got a trick or two to turn in Vera Cruz before we sails.That's the last we-all ever beholds of Lootenant Jack Spencer."'When Spencer don't show up none in Vera Cruz, an'
