[86881] in Discussion of MIT-community interests

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View Substance Abuse Solutions

daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Substance Abuse)
Mon Aug 15 20:44:09 2016

Date: Mon, 15 Aug 2016 22:36:26 -0400
From: "Substance Abuse" <substance.abuse@lotterinia.com>
To:   <mit-talk-mtg@charon.mit.edu>

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     <p align=3D"center" style=3D"font: 12px;   "><span style=3D"color: #FF=
FFFF;   ">suspicion something and raise whoop-jamboreehoo. I do not wish an=
y reward but to know I have done the right thing. UNKNOWN FRIEND. [y6]] </=
span></p> &nbsp;=20
     <p align=3D"right" style=3D"font: 9px;   "><span style=3D"color: #FFFF=
FF;   ">I was such a miscreant in those days--now fifteen years ago--that t=
he close proximity of a sorceress did not make me recoil in horror. &quot; =
So be it!&quot; I thought. &quot; Last week I ate my supper with a highway =
robber. To-day I' ll go and eat ices with a servant of the devil. A travell=
er should see everything.&quot; I had yet another motive for prosecuting he=
r acquaintance. When I left college--I acknowledge it with shame--I had was=
ted a certain amount of time in studying occult science, and had even attem=
pted, more than once, to exorcise the powers of darkness. Though I had been=
 cured, long since, of my passion for such investigations, I still felt a c=
ertain attraction and curiosity with regard to all superstitions, and I was=
 delighted to have this opportunity of discovering how far the magic art ha=
d developed among the gipsies. Talking as we went, we had reached the /neve=
ria/, and seated ourselves at a little table, lighted by a taper protected =
by a glass globe. I then had time to take a leisurely view of my /gitana/, =
while several worthy individuals, who were eating their ices, stared open-m=
outhed at beholding me in such gay company. I very much doubt whether Senor=
ita Carmen was a pure-blooded gipsy. At all events, she was infinitely pret=
tier than any other woman of her race I have ever seen. For a women to be b=
eautiful, they say in Spain, she must fulfil thirty /ifs/, or, if it please=
 you better, you must be able to define her appearance by ten adjectives, a=
pplicable to three portions of her person. For instance, three things about=
 her must be black, her eyes, her eyelashes, and her eyebrows. Three must b=
e dainty, her fingers, her lips, her hair, and so forth. For the rest of th=
is inventory, see Brantome. My gipsy girl could lay no claim to so many per=
fections. Her skin, though perfectly smooth, was almost of a copper hue. He=
r eyes were set obliquely in her head, but they were magnificent and large.=
 Her lips, a little full, but beautifully shaped, revealed a set of teeth a=
s white as newly skinned almonds. Her hair--a trifle coarse, perhaps--was b=
lack, with blue lights on it like a raven' s wing, long and glossy. Not to =
weary my readers with too prolix a description, I will merely add, that to =
every blemish she united some advantage, which was perhaps all the more evi=
dent by contrast. There was something strange and wild about her beauty. He=
r face astonished you, at first sight, but nobody could forget it. Her eyes=
, especially, had an expression of mingled sensuality and fierceness which =
I had never seen in any other human glance. &quot; Gipsy' s eye, wolf' s ey=
e!&quot; is a Spanish saying which denotes close observation. If my readers=
 have no time to go to the &quot; Jardin des Plantes&quot; to study the wol=
f' s expression, they will do well to watch the ordinary cat when it is lyi=
ng in wait for a sparrow. It will be understood that I should have looked r=
idiculous if I had proposed to have my fortune told in a /caf&eacute; /. I =
therefore begged the pretty witch' s leave to go home with her. She made no=
 difficulties about consenting, but she wanted to know what o' clock it was=
 again, and requested me to make my repeater strike once more. &quot; Is it=
 really gold?&quot; she said, gazing at it with rapt attention. When we sta=
rted off again, it was quite dark. Most of the shops were shut, and the str=
eets were almost empty. We crossed the bridge over the Guadalquivir, and at=
 the far end of the suburb we stopped in front of a house of anything but p=
alatial appearance. The door was opened by a child, to whom the gipsy spoke=
 a few words in a language unknown to me, which I afterward understood to b=
e /Romany/, or /chipe calli/--the gipsy idiom. The child instantly disappea=
red, leaving us in sole possession of a tolerably spacious room, furnished =
with a small table, two stools, and a chest. I must not forget to mention a=
 jar of water, a pile of oranges, and a bunch of onions. As soon as we were=
 left alone, the gipsy produced, out of her chest, a pack of cards, bearing=
 signs of constant usage, a magnet, a dried chameleon, and a few other indi=
spensable adjuncts of her art. Then she bade me cross my left hand with a s=
ilver coin, and the magic ceremonies duly began. It is unnecessary to chron=
icle her predictions, and as for the style of her performance, it proved he=
r to be no mean sorceress. Unluckily we were soon disturbed. The door was s=
uddenly burst open, and a man, shrouded to the eyes in a brown cloak, enter=
ed the room, apostrophizing the gipsy in anything but gentle terms. What he=
 said I could not catch, but the tone of his voice revealed the fact that h=
e was in a very evil temper. The gipsy betrayed neither surprise nor anger =
at his advent, but she ran to meet him, and with a most striking volubility=
, she poured out several sentences in the mysterious language she had alrea=
dy used in my presence. The word /payllo/, frequently reiterated, was the o=
nly one I understood. I knew that the gipsies use it to describe all men no=
t of their own race. Concluding myself to be the subject of this discourse,=
 I was prepared for a somewhat delicate explanation. I had already laid my =
hand on the leg of one of the stools, and was studying within myself to dis=
cover the exact moment at which I had better throw it at his head, when, ro=
ughly pushing the gipsy to one side, the man advanced toward me. Then with =
a step backward he cried: &quot; What, sir! Is it you?&quot; I looked at hi=
m in my turn and recognised my friend Don Jose. At that moment I did feel r=
ather sorry I had saved him from the gallows. &quot; What, is it you, my go=
od fellow?&quot; I exclaimed, with as easy a smile as I could muster. &quot=
; You have interrupted this young lady just when she was foretelling me mos=
t interesting things!&quot; &quot; The same as ever. There shall be an end =
to it!&quot; he hissed between his teeth, with a savage glance at her. Mean=
while the /gitana/ was still talking to him in her own tongue. She became m=
ore and more excited. Her eyes grew fierce and bloodshot, her features cont=
racted, she stamped her foot. She seemed to me to be earnestly pressing him=
 to do something he was unwilling to do. What this was I fancied I understo=
od only too well, by the fashion in which she kept drawing her little hand =
backward and forward under her chin. I was inclined to think she wanted to =
have somebody' s throat cut, and I had a fair suspicion the throat in quest=
ion was my own. To all her torrent of eloquence Don Jose' s only reply was =
two or three shortly spoken words. At this the gipsy cast a glance of the m=
ost utter scorn at him, then, seating herself Turkish-fashion in a corner o=
f the room, she picked out an orange, tore off the skin, and began to eat i=
t. Don Jose took hold of my arm, opened the door, and led me into the stree=
t. We walked some two hundred paces in the deepest silence. Then he stretch=
ed out his hand. &quot; Go straight on,&quot; he said, &quot; and you' ll c=
ome to the bridge.&quot; That instant he turned his back on me and departed=
 at a great pace. I took my way back to my inn, rather crestfallen, and con=
siderably out of temper. The worst of all was that, when I undressed, I dis=
covered my watch was missing. Various considerations prevented me from goin=
g to claim it next day, or requesting the /Corregidor/ to be good enough to=
 have a search made for it. I finished my work on the Dominican manuscript,=
 and went on to Seville. After several months spent wandering hither and th=
ither in Andalusia, I wanted to get back to Madrid, and with that object I =
had to pass through Cordova. I had no intention of making any stay there, f=
or I had taken a dislike to that fair city, and to the ladies who bathed in=
 the Guadalquivir. Nevertheless, I had some visits to pay, and certain erra=
nds to do, which must detain me several days in the old capital of the Muss=
ulman princes. The moment I made my appearance in the Dominican convent, on=
e of the monks, who had always shown the most lively interest in my inquiri=
es as to the site of the battlefield of Munda, welcomed me with open arms, =
exclaiming:</span></p>=20
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