A great day for Las Vides is the day appointed by the town council for the inauguration of the vintage. The whole year is passed in looking forward to and preparing for the beautiful harvest time. The vine is still clothed in purple and gold, but it has already begun to drop a part of its rich garniture as a bride drops her veil, the wasps settle in clusters on the grapes, announcing to man that they are now ripe. The last days of September, serene and peaceful, are at hand. To the vintage without delay!

Neither Primo Genday nor Mendez takes a moment's rest. The bands of vintagers who come from distant parishes to hire themselves out must be attended to, must have their tasks assigned them; the work of gathering in the grapes must be organized so that it may be advantageously and harmoniously conducted. For the labors of the vintage resemble, somewhat, a great battle in which an extraordinary expenditure of energy is required from the soldier, a waste of muscle and of blood, but in which he must be supplied, in return, with everything necessary to recruit his strength during his moments of repose. In order that the vintagers might engage in their arduous labors with cheerfulness and alacrity, it was necessary to have at hand in the cellar the cask of must from which the carters might drink at discretion when they returned exhausted from the task of carrying the heavy coleiro, or basket, filled with grapes up the steep ascents; it was necessary that they should have an abundant supply of the thick wine flavored with mutton suet, the sardines and the barley-bread, when the voracious appetite of the bands demanded them; to which end the fire was always kept burning on the hearth at Las Vides and the enormous kettles in which the mess was cooked were always kept filled.

When in addition to this the presence of numerous and distinguished guests be considered, some idea may be formed of the bustle of the manor-house during these incomparable days. Its walls sheltered, besides the Comba family, Saturnino and Carmen Agonde, the young and amiable curate of Naya, the portly arch-priest of Loiro, Tropiezo, Clodio Genday, SeÑorita de Limioso and the two SeÑoritas de Molende. Every class was here represented, so that Las Vides was a sort of microcosm or brief compendium of the world of the province—the priests attracted by Primo Genday, the radicals by the head of the house of Mendez. And all these people of conditions so diverse, finding themselves associated together, gave themselves up to the enjoyment of the occasion in the greatest possible harmony and concord.

To the merriment of the vintagers the merriment of the guests responded like an echo. It was impossible to resist the influence of the Bacchic joyousness, the delirious gayety which seemed to float in the atmosphere. Among all the delightful spectacles which Nature has to offer, there is none more delightful than that of her fruitfulness in the vintage time, the baskets heaped full of clusters of ruddy or dark red grapes, which robust men, almost naked, like fauns, carry and empty into the vat or wine-press; the laughter of the vintagers hidden among the foliage, disputing, challenging each other from vine to vine to sing, a gayety which is followed by a reaction at nightfall—as is usually the case with all violent expressions of feeling in which there is a great expenditure of muscular strength; the merry challenges ending in some prolonged Celtic wail, some plaintive a-laÁ-laÁ. The pagan sensation of well-being, the exhilaration produced by the pure air of the country, the mere joy of existence, communicated themselves to the spectators of these delightful scenes, and at night, while the chorus of fauns and Bacchantes danced to the sound of the flute and the timbrel, the gentry diverted themselves with childish frolics in the great house.

The young ladies slept all together in a large, bare apartment, the Rosary-room, the male guests being lodged by Mendez in another spacious room called the screen-room, because in it was a screen, as ugly as it was antique; the arch-priest only being excluded from this community of lodging, his obesity and his habit of snoring making it impossible for any person of even average sensibility to tolerate him as a roommate; and the gay and mischievous party being thus divided into two sections, there came to be established between them a sort of merry warfare, so that the occupants of the Rosary-room thought of nothing but playing tricks on the occupants of the screen-room, from which resulted innumerable witty inventions and amusing skirmishes. Between the two camps there was a neutral one—that of the Comba family, whose slumbers were respected and who were exempt in the matter of practical jokes, although the feminine band often took Nieves as their confidante and counselor.

"Nieves, come here, Nieves; see, how foolish Carmen Agonde is; she says she likes the arch-priest, that barrel, better than Don EugeniÑo, the parish priest of Naya, because it makes her laugh, she says, to see him perspiring and to look at the rolls of fat in the back of his neck. And say, Nieves, what trick shall we play to-night on Don EugeniÑo? And on Ramon Limioso, who has been daring us all day?"

It was Teresa Molende, a masculine-looking black-eyed brunette, a good specimen of the mountaineer, who spoke thus.

"They must pay for the trick they played on us yesterday," added her sister Elvira, the sentimental poetess.

"What was that?"

"You must know that they locked Carmen up. They are the very mischief! They shut her up in Mendez's room. What is there that they won't think of! They tied her hands behind her back with a silk handkerchief, tied another handkerchief over her mouth, so that she couldn't scream, and left her there like a mouse in a mouse-trap. And we, hunting and hunting for Carmen, and no Carmen to be seen. And there we were thinking all sorts of things until Mendez went up to his room to go to bed and found her there. Of course they had that silly creature to deal with, for if it had been I——"

"They would shut you up too," declared Carmen.

"Me!" exclaimed the Amazon, drawing up her portly figure. "They would be the ones to get shut up!"

"But they entrapped me into it," affirmed Carmen, looking as if she were just ready to cry. "See, Nieves, they said to me: 'Put your hands behind you, CarmiÑa, and we'll put a five-dollar piece in them,' and I put them behind me, and they were so treacherous as to tie them together."

Nieves joined in the laughter of the two sisters. It could not be denied that this simplicity was very amusing. Nieves seemed to be in a new world in which routine, the worn-out conventionalities of Madrid society, did not exist. True, such noisy and ingenuous diversions might at times verge on impropriety or coarseness, but sometimes they were really entertaining. From the moment the guests rose from table in the afternoon nothing was thought of but frolic and fun. Teresa had proposed to herself not to allow Tropiezo to eat a meal in peace, and with the utmost dexterity she would catch flies on the wing, which she would throw slyly into his soup, or she would pour vinegar into his glass instead of wine, or rub pitch on his napkin so that it might stick to his mouth. For the arch-priest they had another trick—they would draw him on to talk of ceremonies, a subject on which he loved to expatiate, and when his attention was engaged, take away his plate slyly, which was like tearing a piece of his heart out of his breast.

At night, in the parlor of the turbid mirrors, in which were the piano and the rocking-chairs, a gay company assembled; they sang fragments of El Juramento, and El Grumete; they played at hide-and-seek, and, without hiding, played brisea with malilla counters; when they grew tired of cards, they had recourse to forfeits, to mind-reading, and other amusements. And the frolicsome rustic nature once aroused, they passed on to romping games—fool in the middle, hoodman-blind, and others which have the zest imparted by physical exercise—shouts, pushes and slaps.

Then they would retire to their rooms, still excited by their sports, and this was the hour when their merriment was at its height, when they played the wildest pranks; when they fastened lighted tapers to the bodies of crickets and sent them under the bedroom doors; when they took the slats out of Tropiezo's bedstead so that when he lay down he might fall to the ground and bruise his ribs. In the halls could be heard smothered bursts of laughter and stealthy footsteps, white forms would be seen scurrying away, and doors would be hastily locked and barricaded with articles of furniture, while from behind them a mellow voice could be heard crying:

"They are coming!"

"Fasten the door well, girls! Don't open, not if the king himself were to knock!"