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A VISITOR
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"Lo me gustaria mucho," he returned; "but I leave to-night. And you could not judge of what I can do unless you should hear me in the theatre. Do you smoke?" And he presented us with a real "puro."
Suddenly an organ at the corner struck up a fragment of Faust — the Gloria chorus of the soldiers. "Ah! I love that," he murmurred; and suddenly the martial air rolled from his lips in tones rich and deep, but golden-clear as the voice of a mighty organ. It was only for a moment; but in that moment the children ceased their dances, and people passing through the old-fashioned streets paused and turned and wondered at the witchcraft of that marvelous voice.
"Adios, señor!" And we parted forever.
