Familiar Spanish Travels, By W. D. Howells

























































































 - 

Pursuing or pursued by his tusked and bristled ancestor, and then slowly
reverting through the different invasions and civilizations to - Page 164
Familiar Spanish Travels, By W. D. Howells - Page 164 of 376 - First - Home

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Pursuing Or Pursued By His Tusked And Bristled Ancestor, And Then Slowly Reverting Through The Different Invasions And Civilizations To

That signal moment when, after three hundred Moslem years, Toledo became Christian again forever, and pork resumed its primacy at

The table. Dark, mysterious, fierce, the proud pig stood, a figure made for sculpture; and if he had been a lion, with the lion's royal ideal of eating rather than feeding the human race, the reader would not have thought him unworthy of literature; I have seldom seen a lion that looked worthier of it.

We must have met farmer-folk, men and women, on our way and have seen their white houses farther or nearer. But mostly the landscape was lonely and at times nightmarish, as the Castilian landscape has a trick of being, and remanded us momently to the awful entourage of our run from Valladolid to Madrid. We were glad to get back to the Tagus, which if awful is not grisly, but wherever it rolls its yellow flood lends the landscape such a sublimity that it was no esthetic descent from the high perch of that proud pig to the mighty gorge through which, geologically long ago, the river had torn its way. When we drove back the bridge-menders stood aside for us while we were yet far off, and the women came to their doorways at the sound of our bells for another exchange of jokes with our driver. By the time a protracted file of mules had preceded us over the bridge, a brisk shower had come up, and after urging our grays at their topmost speed toward the famous church of San Juan de los Reyes Catolicos, we still had to run from our carriage door through the rain.

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