. The century illustrated monthly magazine . e Cliff-House veranda) did this insa-tiable wanderer leave his comfortable land of Central Asia and urge ever westward throughforty centuries of toilsome march ? He started in the worlds youth a simple, pastoral pilgrim,and we saw him pull up his breathless trotters at the very Ultima Thide, rush into the bar-room, and demand a cocktail. Having quenched this ethnic thirst and apparently satisfied the yearning of ages, wewatched him gather up his reins and start eastward again, as if for the sources of thesacred Ganges, and disappear in the cloud of
. The century illustrated monthly magazine . e Cliff-House veranda) did this insa-tiable wanderer leave his comfortable land of Central Asia and urge ever westward throughforty centuries of toilsome march ? He started in the worlds youth a simple, pastoral pilgrim,and we saw him pull up his breathless trotters at the very Ultima Thide, rush into the bar-room, and demand a cocktail. Having quenched this ethnic thirst and apparently satisfied the yearning of ages, wewatched him gather up his reins and start eastward again, as if for the sources of thesacred Ganges, and disappear in the cloud of his own swift-rushing dirt. By the fire in our private breakfast-room we soon forgot him, and you led me again intothe company of the good knight. Even Alphonso must have felt the chivalric presence, for all unbidden he discreetlyhispanized our omelet. Years have gone since that Cervantean morning of ours, and to-day, my friend, I amcome from our dear Spain. As I journeyed in the consecrated realm of Don Quixote, it happened to me to pass a. THE HELMET OF MAMBRINO. !55 night down in a village of La Mancha, thename of which I have no desire to recollect. Late in the evening, after a long day in thesaddle, we had stopped at an humble posadaon the outskirts of an old pueblo, too tiredto press on in search of better accommoda-tions, which we believed the town would prob-ably afford. We were glad enough to tie ourweary animals to their iron rings within theposada, and fling ourselves down to sleep inthe doorway, lulled by the comfortable munch-ing sound of the beasts, and fanned by a softwind which came fitfully from the south. The mild, dry night, wherein thin veils ofcloud had tempered the moonlight and over-spread the vacant plains with spectral shadows,was at length yielding to the more cheerfuladvance of dawn. From the oaken bench on which I hadslept, in the arched entrance of the posada, Icould look back across the wan swells of plainover which my companion and I had ploddedth
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, booksubjectamerica, bookyear1882
