Читать книгу Chata and Chinita. A Novel онлайн

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“A pretty one thou,” cried the boy, angrily. “Dost suppose I am a rabbit, to care for nothing but green? Bah! thou art uglier in thy gay skirts than in thy old ones of red-and-white flannel!”

But the girl had not lingered to listen to his taunts. She flew rather than ran to her hut, which on account of the service in the church was deserted. A crowd of ragged urchins who had taken up the cry of her flouted swain, followed her, jeering and hooting, to the door which she slammed in their faces. Not that they bore her any ill will; but the sight of Chinita in her fine clothes, ruffling and fluttering like an enraged peacock, was irresistibly exciting to the youths whom her lofty disdain usually held in the cowed and submissive state of awe-stricken admiration.

Chinita, scarcely understanding her own miserable disappointment and anger, began to disembarrass herself of her finery, flinging each article from her with contempt, until she stood in the coarse red white-spotted skirt, with a broad band of light green above the hips,—which formed her ordinary apparel. As she stood panting, two great tears rolling down her cheeks and two others as large hanging upon her long, black lashes, she saw the door gently pushed open and before, with an angry exclamation, she could reach it, a little brown head was thrust in.