Jose: Our Little Portuguese CousinSawyer, Edith A. (Edith Augusta)
General
Jose: Our Little Portuguese Cousin
Sawyer, Edith A. (Edith Augusta)
Children -- Portugal -- Juvenile literature
Twice Jose went with Antonio to the wild lands of the remote hillside,
and loaded upon the ox-cart gorse, heather, bracken and wild grass as
winter stabling for the cattle. This they cut or scraped together with
broad-bladed hoes,--simple tools made of a flat piece of iron shaped
like a spade and fastened upon a handle. Jose's hoe-handle was so long
that he had very hard work to manage it. But he bravely kept on, no
matter how his arms and back ached during those early November days.
It would soon be time to plough the stubble and to sow the winter
barley, rye and wheat, the flax, and the maize for cattle feed.
"We will take a holiday, Jose, before we begin this new work. Where
would you like to go?" Antonio asked, as they walked homeward from the
wild-land by the side of the oxen. Carlos ran ahead on the wood-road,
sniffing the fresh air.
"I would like best to go up to the hill-top, where we can look off and
see Guimarães and the old ruined Roman city, Citania."
"We will go to-morrow. You have earned a holiday, and the up-hill walk
will straighten your shoulders. The hoeing has made you bend over like
a little old man."
The next morning's work of caring for the live-stock was done early.
Each with a lunch-basket, and a cloak hung over one shoulder, the two
brothers set forth, followed by Carlos, and watched out of sight by the
family on the front porch.
They found the mossy old foot-path which led from the main road up the
hill. Pine needles made the rocks here and there as slippery as glass.
But tufts of tall, stout grass along the path served as a help in
climbing.
The sky overhead was deepest blue. Through the trunks of trees on
both sides of the path they could see many a maize-field yellow with
stubble, and many a vineyard with brilliant bronze leaves.
The trees were very beautiful. Here was the straight trunk of a
eucalyptus "tall as the mast of some great admiral;" here was a
cork-tree with a rich, brown velvet-like trunk, and here a gum-tree,
its long drooping leaves of russet, red and orange showing like jewels
against the slender, dark trunk.
There were seats for the weary built against the trees along the way.
Once in a while the brothers stopped to rest. And at the noon hour they
ate their luncheon, Jose sitting at Antonio's feet, and giving a large
part of his own share to the dog.
By early afternoon they came to the rocky crag of the hill. A humble
hermitage stood upon the outer edge of this great rock. Near the
hermitage a gilded cross was built upon a broad pillar of piled
stones,--the work of some long-ago, shoeless Carmelite or Trappist
monk. The hermitage was deserted now, but the palms and ferns around
it were rich in beauty. Antonio, who had read much about his country's
history, told Jose that all these green growing things had been planted
and tended with loving care by the devout monks who had taken on
themselves the vows of poverty and of silence.
[Illustration: "FOR A LONG TIME THE BROTHERS WERE SILENT."]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account