"'Caballos'—horses. Caballos is horses;
'three hundred and twenty reals.' By
George! O, yes, that's for your two days'
ride.

"'Almuerzo,'—breakfast,—'eight reals.'
Why that's more than the Fonda Minerva at
Granada."

"Fonda Minerva," smiled the waiter, "I
know Casa, Nuniero 40. Carrera de Genil,
Acera de Darro, Gomez de Brigand."

"Exactly," said Spanker, "right as a
guide-book. But who asked you to clap
your oar in, old fellow." (This, in a voice of
thunder.) Waiter dropped the tray on my
toes.

"'One Botella Xeres; fifteen reals.' O, it's
all right enough. Put pago (paid), waiter;
one cannot bother all day about the confounded
items—go!"

Till dinner came I and Spanker amused
ourselves by smoking at the door, or on one
of those low stone-seats with iron backs
that, interspersed with orange-trees and iron
lamp trees, parade round the square. Behind
us lay the hotel with all its windows gasping
open, and its green side-blinds lying back
against the wall.

"Just look," says Spanker, exhibiting a
card, "what an infernal rascal, named Tomas
Rodesquez, who calls himself interpreter to
the hotel, has just put in my hand. 'List
of curiosities in the City of Seville: Cathedral,
percussion-cap factory, mint, pottery.'
Here's a jumble. What do I care for
percussion-caps, or mints, or potteries? I
swore yesterday I would not go into any
more cathedrals, or look at another picture.
A man has his weed and his horse;—but,
I say, old man, what are you going to do
to-night?I"

"Look here," I said, taking up the little
paper—The Voice of Liberty—"here is a
baile (ball) to-night at Don Manuel de la
Berreràs, at half-past nine; entrance fifteen
reals. There are to be dances of society, of
the nation. It is in the elegant saloon."

"Elegant saloon. I know it—Gammonio!
Tarifa Street."

"All the best boleras are to be there, and
several gipsies and cantadores of the highest
fame, and Don Manuel has spared no time or
sacrifice in order that the dances shall be
executed with the proper splendour and
brilliancy."

"He used to keep the Hôtel Central, Caes
de Sodre, Lisbon, in that little sea-side square,
where the dial and the pimento-trees are.
Didn't he stick it in for pale-ale, ask Driver,
when we get to Gib?"

"A curious people this," said I, pointing to
an advertisement in the paper, headed by a
black cross, and the letters R.I.P.A. 'Don
——public scrivener, his sons Don Francisco,
Don Juan, Don Manuel, and Don Carlos,
sons of the said Don Pedro de la Torre, beg
that those who have not yet received notes
will assist at the funeral which, for the eternal
rest of Don Pedro's soul, will be celebrated
tomorrow (Sunday) at eight and a-half in the
morning, in the parish of Saint John the
Baptist, of the Palm, from whence the body
will be carried to the public cemetery of
San Fernando, for which favour they will
remain indebted. Street of the Holy Spirit,
Numero, 20.' Shall we go and help bury the
old notary?"

"What, at half-past eight in the morning?
Catch me. Lieutenant Spanker up in the
morning's No for me. The man who stirs
very much before breakfast, Tom Hood said,
'is a spoon!' Develish good of Hood. Was
that Hood whom we used to call 'Pod' at
Eton, because he was so podgy?"

"I think not. Well, but here, Spanker, is
an advertisement much more in your way.
'The Society of Athletes and Acrobats,
Bull Ring, Seville. Sunday. Weather
permitting.'"

"Sunday, too; that's wrong. But here they
pull a man up if he reads the Bible."

"Illustration: a fool with a jackass on
his shoulders, dancing on a very low tight
rope."

"I can't swallow that, old fellow. Fact?"

"You observed in the funeral notice the
deep religious tone of faith, and the curious
mixtures of ceremonious address. It is the
same here, 'Don Hieronymo de Villafranca,
thanks the illustrious and gallant population
of the loyal and glorious city for their favours
and promises.' All this, just hear it, reads
like a country circus placard."

"Let me look over you," said Spanker;
"I think you're humming me."

"Brilliant symphonies by all the band.
The Sylphs and the Satyr. Egyptian
Pyramids. The Escapada Reel, by the Miraculous
Maiden, on the tight rope. The Giralda of
Seville. The Carib Exercises. The Russian
Mountain. Feats by the Youth of Barcelona.
To end with The Two Minstrel Brothers,
in which the Count de Foja, a town near
Naples, will seek his lady, who is taken by
the bandits, at the head of a troop of men
disguised as tumblers. Open at three;
commence at half-past four. Seats, six reals.
Hallo, there's the waiter squalling to us for
dinner."

Dinner is a solemn thing, with thirty
heads at once in thirty soup-plates; waiters,
in pink and yellow jackets, skimming about
like butterflies. Ox-tail is being put out of
sight. Vermicelli twines its white Medusa hair
for me and Spanker. The table is gay with
stands of fruit, flowers, and small dishes
of almonds and ratafias, which a little
attorney, who looks like a plump spider,
ogles already ogreously. There is a curious
superstition of putting the dishes for a
moment on the table, and then removing
them to be carved and distributed in
rotation by the waiters. If you see the
dissected chicken and watercresses passing
round to your next neighbour, while you