yours will write on, if it is all day & by way of making it answer for a chapter in the great work, will go into details in the novel style this will be killing two birds with one stone. Now to begin my journal. Like all other times of war & peace, it affords little to say. My ride to Baltimore was as pleasant as on a summer's day, my companion a very agreeable man who knew everybody I knew in New York, & we talked of all the old acquaintance of twenty & 30 years back-he told me who he was, his business & family. I told him who I was, my husband's business & our family & before we reached Baltimore felt like old acquaintance. When the stage stopp'd we were taken into the stage office & found on enquiry, not a single passenger was going on to Philad. Mr. Dey, said if I would wait he would go to the other stage office & enquire. There were a parcel of men standing round, but no one offer'd me a chair. I asked one of them to carry my letter into Mr. Williamson. Soon after the bar keeper, came & asked me to walk into a parlour, where a very genteel young man, came & in the most respectful way, enquir'd what he could do for my accomodation, stating his father was very ill, but he would execute any commands I might give him. When he understood my wishes, he begg'd me to walk in a better parlour up stairs, while he would go to the other stage office & learn what passengers there were, begging me to feel quite at home & order what I pleased. He soon return'd, likewise Mr. Dey, with information there were two gentlemen going on to Philad. I then ordered a slight dinner, while Mr. D. went to take my seat & speak to the gentlemen & Mr.

in the greatest anxiety as Sally was very ill. I did not see sister or Elizabeth until this morning, her life was in danger I believe for some hours, at one, the child was born-it was six months, it is still alive but no probability of its living. I hope Sally is out of danger, but poor sister & brother are very, very anxious. In this state of the family I feel in the way, 'tho' all are kind enough to persuade me to stay longer, I think it best to go tomorrow. Brother would have gone with me, had not this event occur'd. Oh how frail is the tenure of human felicity. This happy family may soon be plunged into the greatest grief. Mrs. Bayard, Caroline, Susan & Mrs. Hodge * & several other friends came in to see me & have been again this morning. I can scarcely steal time for a few lines, & am writing with them all around me. All are unsettled, going & coming from Sally's. I feel anxious but shall go tomorrow. I am perfectly well, all the better for the exposure & adventures I have met with. I meant to give you an account of the passage of the Susquehannah, & the rest of my journey, but now I feel in no spirits to write it. All our friends & connections of all the different families are in deep mourning. I do not want the girls to get any, but it might be as well to lay aside their gay ribbons. Things seem very different here & at Sidney—they have just come in to say Sally is much better & has fallen asleep. This is very favorable. I wrote those few lines from Elketon under the impression the mail to Washington would be missing, but it was the northern mail which was deranged. I cannot write more now, for every moment some one is coming in. Heaven bless you all.

M. H. SMITH.

T

WO donkeys with their noses close together stood on the earthen floor of the posada. The sun streamed through the cracks of the partly opened door, and the little beasts put back their ears in perverse obstinacy whenever the harnessmaker came to fit their saddles, nor did they resume their contented attitude until Don Felipe's cigarette once more sent up quietly curling streams of blue smoke, as he resumed his work beside the high-wheeled, heavily hooded carts in the patio. A few more stitches, and one or two more holes punched, and everything would be ready for señor and his guide.

The gayly bedecked little beasts stood patiently waiting, with large heavy saddles, when Fernando and I entered the inn yard early the next morning. A fringed blanket shawl folded in a long roll was thrown over each pommel, the ends dangling fantastically around the fore feet. Another heavy VOL. XL.-48

blanket was folded over the saddle seat, from which hung the gay red-fringed saddlebags. From heavy bridles hung long strips of tasselled leather, which fell over the forehead and nose, a protest to the cruel, persistent flies. Fernando's stirrups were yellow and mine were green, and as he handed me an "estock to make heem hurry," I climbed astride my little steed and led the way out of the inn yard, down the wide pavement, and under the Puerto del Toledo, out on the hard white smooth government road of flint.

Teams of as many as five mules, all in a row, with gay head-dresses, from which hung rows and rows of bells, tinkled in merry unison as they pulled faithfully at the heavily laden, high-wheeled, big-hooded carts with their load of earthenware or wine-casks hung from a swinging platform beneath the axle as well as piled high up above it. The drivers with their savage

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dogs sat lazily, curling their long lashes not only around the ears of their own patient beasts, but most generously distributing their efforts on all passing animals.

Small donkeys loaded with water-casks, live poultry, earth from a near-by excavation, passed by in single file, all encircled by their fantastic little harnesses of braided straw rope, with red and yellow worsted patterns and dangling purple pompons.

Well-ordered olive groves, the trees with their gnarled and twisted trunks withered and scarred, but sending forth shoots of new green branches, lined either side of the road, and as we left the signs of the town behind us the country became slightly rolling. The herbage grew scantily on the parched earth, ploughed and pulverized by the Romans, then by the Moors, and now by a people whose instinct of pillage is stronger than its desire for development.

A load of pottery.

Two forlorn burros yoked to a sharpened stick scraped the sun-baked ground and a patient raw-boned mule, blindfolded, trod a well-worn circle, drawing up water from a well, in earthern jars, and a Roman pillar, broken to the proper length and fastened to a rough-hewn framework, pressed seeds into the ground as it was rolled over it.

Presently we came to a low square building with sun-baked tiles upon the roof, and Fernando called from behind to stop; it was a wine-shop, and I found that on a road where the hot, dry sun beats mercilessly down, where the blue, blue sky becomes monotonous, and wine-shops are few, it is well to heed Fernando's well-meant interruption; so I dismounted and walked into the low whitewashed room.

over against the wall and I glanced curiously at a beggar in a long faded cloak who stood before the wine-seller. He had dropped his

humble demeanor and stooped pose, and held his head in a lordly manner, for he was no longer the supplicant at the cathedral steps, but a man of capital spending his money, and commanded the proper courtesy from the shopkeeper, who showed his evident amusement at the proud and haughty demeanor of the well-schooled mendicant. When he was given his glass of wine and paid his penny, he graciously offered it to both of us with true politeness before he touched his greedy thick lips to the rim.

After our refreshment, we sat around on the low benches for some time, and I could

Encircled in a gay little harness.

see that my companion was as loath to remount as I was, for riding a donkey is something one must get used to; the short, quickstep of the burro produces a jogging that one cannot "rise" to as in horseback, but you must sit and "take it," and it requires time before the muscles are hardened enough to use the stick and your throat leathery enough to shout "a-rr-r-r-ray-yy-y-y-y-0-0-0-O!*" so that a Spanish donkey will respect either.

The sun's rays grew more intense, absorbing the cool breeze from the snow capped Sierras, and as we continued along the road the little beasts, either realizing that they were on a long journey or that we used the "estocks" with a more professional

*Spelled arrhé.

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swing, started on a quick walk, almost breaking into a trot.

We were farther from the city now, and there was only an occasional traveller on the road. The fields were parched, but here and there, in irrigated portions, the grass grew a little greener Occasional small dilapidated walled villages, marked by the spire of a cathedral, were on the hillsides, and often very small hamlets had very big cathedrals. As we approached one of these villages, a man carrying a big jug and riding astride of an old mule came out to meet us. He was preceded by a woman dressed in black and taking very long strides. When he came nearer he waved his hand, and before we knew it the farmer who helped us in buying the donkeys at the market, was beside us and inquired how the beasts were behaving, while his good wife stood and looked on with good-nature and solicitude.