ten, and the sun terribly hot, we were glad to
take refuge in the posada. In the room into
which they showed us, there were three very
rough sofas, whereon we gladly threw ourselves,
and were rather astonished, on going away, to
find that we were charged for three beds, though
we did but lie down for a few hours in the
daytime. As for rest, that was out of the question,
for the flies covered our faces and hands in countless
numbers, and effectually barred sleep. At
one P.M. we were called to dinner, and sat down
with a goodly company of drovers and others,
who were doing the journey to Valencia on foot.

As for myself, the smell of the garlic was quite
enough, and I retreated, without tasting a morsel,
to my sofa. Even there I was not left in peace,
for fowls, dogs, and even pigs, kept wandering
into the room; and in my sorties to drive out
these intruders, I discovered the cause of the
immense number of flies. All along the verandah
in rear of the apartments the worthy posadero
had hung up in rows joints of meat, some of
which were quite black. The odour of these
pieces of flesh overpowered even that of the
adjoining stable-yard, and brought all the insects of
the neighbourhood to the spot. I should have
left the place without eating, had not a creole
woman offered me a large sweetmeat made of
membrillo, or "quince," which I greedily
devoured. Our bill was seven dollars, or about
two-and-twenty shillings, for the use of the room
and the abominable food, which Juan had the
courage to masticate, but the very smell of which
I could not endure. At three P.M. a rumbling
coach drove up, and took away the shoemaker's
wife who had given me the quince, and her
family; and as the road was blocked up for a
bull-fight, they had to make a détour over such
rough ground as to threaten the old vehicle with
destruction at every moment. We soon followed,
and rode the five miles that remained to Valencia
in an hour.

The country was lovely with the richest
natural vegetation, and, here and there, coffee
estates and sugar plantations. There are so
many trees and gardens round Valencia, that the
city is almost concealed from view until it is
entered. However, long before we readied the
streets, we passed bevies of pretty creole ladies,
promenading or sitting in the open air, in front
of posadas resembling tea-gardens in England.
Among these groups, my hat with the turban
still continued to create a sensation, and though
they were too civilised to take me for an
archbishop, the mistakes they made about me, as I
afterwards heard, were scarcely less ridiculous.
On arriving in Valencia, we made our way to the
Gran Plaza, and alighted at a posada called La
Belle Alliance, which had no upper story, and no
comfortable room of any kind. I was shown into
a gloomy apartment without a window, and with
one great folding-door. When this door was
closed, I was obliged to light a candle, but it was
impossible to keep the door shut long, without
being stifled. We had to wait several hours
before the dinner we had ordered could be got
ready, and when it did appear, although our
appetites were keen, we could not induce ourselves
to touch anything, except some boxes of sardines
and a dish of potatoes. On going to bed, I found
it impossible to sleep, from the suffocating closeness
of my room, and I passed the night in vowing
that as soon as morning came, I would cease
to be a member of La Belle Alliance.

DADDY DODD.

JOHN BEADLE was an honest man, with a large
family and a small shop. It was not a hopeful
circumstance in John's position that, while his
family kept on enlarging, the shop obstinately
maintained its contracted dimensions; that,
while there seemed to be no bounds to the race
of Beadle, the business which maintained them
was strictly limited. John's shop was situated
in one of the many by-streets, with no main
thoroughfare among them, which constitute
Somers Town, and it was devoted to the sale of
coals and vegetables. As a householder, John,
though in a small way of business, was a person
of some importance, inasmuch as he was the
sole lessee of an entire tenement. It was
something to boast of in that neighbourhood, but not
much; for the roof which John called his own
was a broken-backed roof, and covered only one
floor besides the basement, which formed the
emporium. The tenement seemed to be fast
sinking into the earth. The impression of the
beholder was that one story had already sunk,
and that the others were rapidly following it;
so that it seemed probable that in a few years
there would be nothing visible but the broken-backed
roof lying flat on the spot, a monument
of departed commerce in coals. Meantime, by
the agency of two upright beams and one transverse
one, the broken-backed roof was kept over
the heads of John and his family.

John's family consisted of his wife Martha,
seven children, and Martha's old father. All
these, including the old man, who was past work,
and utterly without any means of his own, were
dependent upon the exertions of John, aided,
when urgent family affairs would permit, by
his wife. John's exertions were divided
between chopping firewood, taking out hundreds
(more frequently half-hundreds) of coals on a
truck, and "moving." The occupation of
"moving" may be described as going to houses
about quarter-day, wrestling with chests of
drawers, sofas, four-post bedsteads, and other
heavy articles of furniture, and getting very
little money, but a good deal of beer. If John
had been a pelican of the wilderness he might
have nourished his family upon beer for a week
after a moving; but he was only a man, and
could do little more than find them a bit of
supper with the single shilling which was
generally all his reward in available currency.

The door and the window of the shop being
always open, the nature and extent of John's
stock in trade were patent to the world. It