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Chu Chu
by
He appeared to be suiting the action to the word as he lingered in the doorway of the stable. “Come on,” I said.
“Pardon,” he returned, with a bow that was both elaborate and evasive, “but you shall yourself precede me–the stable is YOURS.”
“Oh, come along!” I continued impatiently. To my surprise he seemed to dodge back into the stable again. After an instant he reappeared.
“Pardon! but I am re-strain! Of a truth, in this instant I am grasp by the mouth of thees horse in the coat-tail of my dress! She will that I should remain. It would seem”–he disappeared again–“that”–he was out once more–“the experiment is a sooccess! She reciprocate! She is, of a truth, gone on me. It is lofe!”–a stronger pull from Chu Chu here sent him in again–“but”–he was out now triumphantly with half his garment torn away–“I shall coquet.”
Nothing daunted, however, the gallant fellow was back next day with a Mexican saddle, and attired in the complete outfit of a vaquero. Overcome though HE was by heavy deerskin trousers, open at the side from the knees down, and fringed with bullion buttons, an enormous flat sombrero, and a stiff, short embroidered velvet jacket, I was more concerned at the ponderous saddle and equipments intended for the slim Chu Chu. That these would hide and conceal her beautiful curves and contour, as well as overweight her, seemed certain; that she would resist them all to the last seemed equally clear. Nevertheless, to my surprise, when she was led out, and the saddle thrown deftly across her back, she was passive. Was it possible that some drop of her old Spanish blood responded to its clinging embrace? She did not either look at it nor smell it. But when Enriquez began to tighten the “cinch” or girth a more singular thing occurred. Chu Chu visibly distended her slender barrel to twice its dimensions; the more he pulled the more she swelled, until I was actually ashamed of her. Not so Enriquez. He smiled at us, and complacently stroked his thin moustache.
“Eet is ever so! She is the child of her grandmother! Even when you shall make saddle thees old Castilian stock, it will make large–it will become a balloon! Eet is a trick–eet is a leetle game–believe me. For why?”
I had not listened, as I was at that moment astonished to see the saddle slowly slide under Chu Chu’s belly, and her figure resume, as if by magic, its former slim proportions. Enriquez followed my eyes, lifted his shoulders, shrugged them, and said smilingly, “Ah, you see!”
When the girths were drawn in again with an extra pull or two from the indefatigable Enriquez, I fancied that Chu Chu nevertheless secretly enjoyed it, as her sex is said to appreciate tight-lacing. She drew a deep sigh, possibly of satisfaction, turned her neck, and apparently tried to glance at her own figure–Enriquez promptly withdrawing to enable her to do so easily. Then the dread moment arrived. Enriquez, with his hand on her mane, suddenly paused and, with exaggerated courtesy, lifted his hat and made an inviting gesture.
“You will honor me to precede.”
I shook my head laughingly.
“I see,” responded Enriquez gravely. “You have to attend the obsequies of your aunt who is dead, at two of the clock. You have to meet your broker who has bought you feefty share of the Comstock lode–at thees moment–or you are loss! You are excuse! Attend! Gentlemen, make your bets! The band has arrived to play! ‘Ere we are!”
With a quick movement the alert young fellow had vaulted into the saddle. But, to the astonishment of both of us, the mare remained perfectly still. There was Enriquez bolt upright in the stirrups, completely overshadowing by his saddle-flaps, leggings, and gigantic spurs the fine proportions of Chu Chu, until she might have been a placid Rosinante, bestridden by some youthful Quixote. She closed her eyes, she was going to sleep! We were dreadfully disappointed. This clearly would not do. Enriquez lifted the reins cautiously! Chu Chu moved forward slowly–then stopped, apparently lost in reflection.