I love the bluish-green
'bloom' of its sheer foliage. I love the music these flower
trumpets make to me. I love the way it has traveled, God knows
how, all the way from the Argentine and spread itself over our
country wherever it is allowed footing. I am glad that there is
soothing in these dried leaves for those who require it. I shall
be delighted to set my seal on you with it. There are two little
Spanish words that it suggests to the Mexican--Buena moza--but
you shall find out for yourself what they mean."
Encountering his father that night at his library door, Donald
Whiting said to him: "May I come in, Dad? I have something I
must look up before I sleep. Have you a Spanish lexicon, or no
doubt you have this in your head."
"Well, I've a halting vocabulary," said the Judge. "What's your
phrase?"
"Linda put this flower on me today," said Donald, "and she said
she was pleased because I said the tall, slender bush it grew on
reminded me of her. She gave me the Spanish name, but I don't
know the exact significance of the decoration I am wearing until
I learn the meaning of the phrase."
"Try me on it," said the Judge.
" 'Buena moza,"' quoted Donald.
The Judge threw back his head and laughed heartily.
"Son," he said, "you should know that from the Latin you're
learning. You should translate it instinctively. I couldn't
tell you exactly whether a Spaniard would translate 'Buena'
'fine' or 'good.
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