divided in the middle and bound close to her head, and her large eyes
full of the Latin melancholy, gave her the Madonna touch. Her motions
and air spoke of the concealed fire and the desire to charm that she
had inherited from the _gitanas_ [69] of the Basque province. As for
the humming-bird part of her, that dwelt in her heart; you could not
perceive it unless her bright red skirt and dark blue blouse gave you
a symbolic hint of the vagarious bird.

[FOOTNOTE 69: gitanas--(Spanish) gypsies]

The newly lighted sun-god asked for a drink of water. Tonia brought it
from the red jar hanging under the brush shelter. Sandridge considered
it necessary to dismount so as to lessen the trouble of her
ministrations.

I play no spy; nor do I assume to master the thoughts of any human
heart; but I assert, by the chronicler's right, that before a quarter
of an hour had sped, Sandridge was teaching her how to plaint a
six-strand rawhide stake-rope [70], and Tonia had explained to him
that were it not for her little English book that the peripatetic
_padre_ had given her and the little crippled _chivo_ [71], that she
fed from a bottle, she would be very, very lonely indeed.

[FOOTNOTE 70: plait . . . stake-rope--O. Henry probably learned
this skill or at least saw it practiced during the
two years he spent on South Texas ranches.]

[FOOTNOTE 71: chivo--(Spanish) goat]

Which leads to a suspicion that the Kid's fences needed repairing, and