previously, standing close to the piles of pottery. Jo Ann promptly leaped out of the car and walked over and began admiring the pottery.

"The _ollas_ are very beautiful," she said in her slow Spanish. "Did you help to decorate them?"

"_Sí_, I fix this one." She picked up a small, brightly colored jar.

"It is lovely," admired Jo Ann. "You are very artistic."

The girl's black eyes shone, and two dimples twinkled in her olive-tinted cheeks at this praise.

After she had looked at the pottery a few minutes longer, Jo Ann asked haltingly, "Do you know when the men are coming for your _ollas_?"

"_Sí_, the girl nodded, her long black braids swaying with the motion. "They tell my papa they come _mañana_."

"_Mañana_," Jo repeated to herself discouragedly. That was the most indefinite word in the Spanish language. It might mean tomorrow, and it might mean any time in months to come. "Do you mean Friday?" she asked.

"_Sí_, Friday."

"What time?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe in the morning; maybe in the afternoon--I do not know."

"What time did they come last time they bought your pottery?"

The child shook her head. "I do not remember."

Just then the girl's mother appeared in the doorway and smiled broadly on recognizing Jo Ann and Peggy.

Jo Ann walked over to the door and, after exchanging greetings with her, asked if she knew exactly when the men were coming after the pottery, ending, "Maybe they will sell me some more of your beautiful _ollas_ when they come."

The woman answered with the same gesture as had her daughter--a shrug of her shoulders and, "I do not know."

"When do they usually come?" Jo Ann persisted.

"Last time they come about this hour. They stop at Pedro's store first; then they come here."

Jo Ann's eyes brightened. At last she had secured a bit of information.

 Prev. P 40/101 next