The Little Spanish Dancer - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"I want to take Pilar to my school," he went on, "and teach her. For I believe that some day she will be a wonderful dancer. And I should know, for I have taught some of the best dancers in Spain."
Now Pilar realized who he was. Often she had pa.s.sed the window of his dancing school. She had watched the fortunate pupils and listened to the strains of a tango and the clatter of castanets.
Upon the walls of the school were colored posters showing scenes of bullfights. Girls and boys, young and old, stamped their feet and twirled to fiery music.
It had always made Pilar's heart beat faster. She had longed to join them. But lessons were only for wealthy children and--
"But, senor," said Pilar's grandfather, as if he had been reading Pilar's mind, "we have no money to spend on lessons."
"I shall ask no money," replied the dancing master. "No. Our school will some day be proud of Senorita Pilar."
He stood up and put out his hand to the little girl.
"Come tomorrow for your first lesson," he said. "My brother will instruct you. My brother, you know, is the second greatest dancing master in Spain."
"And who is the first, senor?" asked Pilar's grandfather.
"Why, I am, of course!" answered the tall man proudly, and walked out of the room.
When he had left, there was much rejoicing in the tiny house. Pilar went out and bought a basket full of good things, and they had dinner.
After dinner, they sat together, silent and happy, the old man's wrinkled hand caressing the child's glossy black hair.
Then all at once, in a low, mysterious voice, the grandfather began to recite:
"_Castanets, with magic spell, Never lose or give or sell; If you do, then grief and strife Will follow you through all your life._"
[Ill.u.s.tration: PILAR AND HER GRANDFATHER]
When he had told Pilar about the magic castanets and the legends with their strange lessons, she felt a wave of joy sweep through her.
"Oh, then, it must have been the magic of the castanets that brought us all this good fortune, Grandfather!" she cried.
Her grandfather smiled wisely and shook his head.
"No, Pilly," he said. "Good fortune always comes to those who think good thoughts and who work hard. There is no magic in that."
THE END
