Even the ardor of the horses seems lulled by the "concord of sweet sounds." The music changes to a full burst of martial melody, and away they go at a gallop!

Close behind comes a regiment of Cuirassiers, mounted chiefly on powerful steeds with long sweeping tails, and manes parted in the middle, and flowing on both sides, the whole width of the neck. The men are stout fine-looking fellows, encased in long jack boots, with Grecian helmets and cuirasses of steel, on the front of which are gilded images of the sun. What a brave show! The sun shines full upon them, and my eyes can scarcely bear the glitter. So much for the "pride, pomp, and circum

stance of glorious war!"

But I

must now find my way back. Hark! All the bells are set ringing -all the streets are strewed with rock roses-all the balconies decorated with rich tapestry-altars are erected on every square, under canopies of state. A solemn procession is advancing from the church of Santa Maria.

What

What swarms of Priests! crowds of people! The gay and the gloomy-the sick and healthy -rich and poor-high and lowyoung and old-all are in motion. What banners-censers-trumpets and kettle drums! What paper images of saints in robes of gold brocade! On they come! Flowers and sweetmeats descend in showers

from windows, roofs, and steeples! At length the scene is over, and the clock proclaims noonday! We return through the square of the Puerta del Sol, or Gate of the Sun. Here the exchange is every day held, and the trader comes to talk of his affairs. Hither the idle thief, wrapped in his dingy cloak, comes with "stealthy pace" to plan with a comrade future crimes. Look! Look! What flocks of sheep, and droves of swine, are going to the shambles ! What a number of mules and asses is constantly passing! Someladen with straw-some with charcoal-and some with dead kids hooked by the legs. On the very end of the last beast of each row is a rough clad fellow, who

keeps singing out "Straw! Straw! Coals! Kids !"- -Bless me! I have stumbled against the basket of an old orange woman! How her tongue runs! She is giving me a pretty good specimen of her skill in scolding! -The lotteries

poor

half

are open, I see, and the starved writers are all "conceit

and bustle!"

One o'clock ! We are called to dinner; a great deal of saffronmany love-apples-plenty of oil and pimento! But then, wine

from La Mancha, old Xeres, and Malaga! What a nice thing is Spanish cookery!

The Siesta! The Siesta, or after

noon nap!

A deep silence is in

all the streets; the window shut

ters are put up, or the curtains let down even the most industrious

porter stretches his length on his mat, and falls asleep at the fountain with his pitcher behind him.

It is four o'clock! Up! Up!and away to the bull fight-to the canal-or the Prado! All is gaiety and merriment! There they go !

One equipage after another, one chaise after another,-full speed to those places of diversion! The streets are again crowded, and the water carriers and orange women are as busy as bees.

How swiftly and merrily the day has passed! The dusky shades of evening are closing around! The bells ring, and every Spaniard says the prayer of salutation to the

G