without the slightest difficulty, if you but analyze the situation of
the personages, the time in which they live, or the circumstances that
surround them."[2]

[Footnote 1: _La Literatura Espanola en el Siglo XIX_, Madrid, 1891,
vol. II, p. 275.]

[Footnote 2: Correa, _op. cit._, p. xxx.]

The subtle charm of such legends as _Los Ojos Verdes_, _La Corza
Blanca_, _Maese Pérez el Organista_, etc., full of local color as they
are, and of an atmosphere of old Spain, is hard to describe, but none
the less real. One is caught by the music of the prose at the first
lines, enraptured by the weird charm of the story, and held in
breathless interest until the last words die away. If Becquer's phrase
is not always classic, it is, on the other hand, vigorous and
picturesque; and when one reflects upon the difficult conditions under
which his writings were produced, in the confusion of the
printing-office, or hurriedly in a miserable attic to procure food for
the immediate necessities of his little family, and when one likewise
recalls the fact that they were published in final book form only
after the author's death, and without retouching, the wonder grows
that they are written in a style so pleasing and so free from
harshness.

Becquer's prose is doubtless at its best in his letters entitled
_Desde mi Celda_, written, as has been said, from the monastery of
Veruela, in 1864. Read his description of his journey to the ancient
Aragonese town of Tarazona, picturesquely situated on the River
Queiles, of his mule trip over the glorious Moncayo, of the