The Montezuma ball took place in the new Eldorado Hotel which had recently
been built by the railroad company for the entertainment of its
transcontinental passengers. It was not a beautiful building, but it was
an apt expression of the town’s personality. Designed in the ancient style
of the early Spanish missions, long, low and sprawling, with deep
verandahs, odd little towers and arched gateways it was made of cement and
its service and prices were of the Manhattan school. A little group of
Pueblo Indians, lonesomely picturesque in buck-skin and red blankets, with
silver and turquoise rings and bracelets, were always seated before its
doors, trying to sell fruit and pottery to well-tailored tourists. It had
a museum of Southwestern antiquities and curios, where a Navajo squaw
sulkily wove blankets on a handloom for the edification of the guilded
stranger from the East. On the platform in front of it, perspiring
Mexicans smashed baggage and performed the other hard labour of a modern
terminal.
Thus the Eldorado Hotel was rich in that contrast between the old and the
new which everywhere characterized the town. Generally speaking, the old
was on exhibition or at work, while the new was at leisure or in charge.
When the Delcasar carriage reached the hotel, it had to take its place in
a long line of crawling vehicles, most of which were motor cars. Ramon
felt acutely humiliated to arrive at the ball in a decrepit-looking rig
when nearly every one else came in an automobile. He hoped that no one
would notice them. But the smaller of the two horses, which had spent most
of his life in the country, became frightened, reared, plunged, and
finally backed the rig into one of the cars, smashing a headlight,
blocking traffic, and making the Delcasars a target for searchlights and
oaths. The Dona Delcasar, a ponderous and swarthy woman in voluminous
black silk, became excited and stood up in the carriage, shouting shrill
and useless directions to the coachman in Spanish. People began to laugh.
Ramon roughly seized his mother by the arm and dragged her down. He was
trembling with rage and embarassment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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