518

THE CONGRESS OF WOMEN.

in the morning than at any other time of the day, and then the chief streets and plazas are thronged with gay crowds, who walk about, sing and drink at the out-door cafes until the morning dawns.

In Madrid and Seville are large tobacco factories at each of which three or four thousand women are employed making cigarettes. These women are usually very fond of flowers, especially of the heavily perfumed tube-rose, possibly on account of the scent counteracting the odor of tobacco, and they have a pretty custom of wearing one or two with a sprig of geranium in their hair. These flowers are sold in the streets, stuck on small wooden sticks, ready prepared to put in the hair like a hair-pin. In looking around the various rooms of these factories one is not impressed with the beauty of the women, for in Andalusia especially, where the dark-haired, dark-eyed type prevails, and where one naturally thinks that every woman living beneath these sunny skies should be a beauty, the face is often dull and heavy, the upper lip is some­times shaded with a slight mustache, and many imperfections in the eyes are notice­able. Whether this is attributable to the tobacco surroundings I do not know, but the close air which is breathed by so many all day long is so strongly impregnated with tobacco that it makes one’s eyes sting, and until accustomed to the atmosphere one can scarcely breathe without sneezing every few minutes.

The handsome senoras and senoritas are not to be forgotten when once seen, and a good time to see them in Seville, for instance, is about 6 o’clock in the evening, when they drive up and down the beautiful avenue facing the river. It is an odd sight to see carefully groomed mules attached to their stylish drags and carts, for it is at present a “ fad” to own and drive the heavy-footed, plebeian mule instead of the dainty stepping and more aristocratic horse. Even in the royal stables at Madrid, with over three hundred fine horses, mules have the place of honor. On the princi­pal drive of Seville, to which I have alluded, fronts the palace of the Duc de Mont- pensier, and it is there that the Infanta Eulalia, who has so recently been the guest of our country, sometimes makes her home; and a charming spot it is, with the large park surrounding it, filled with flowering plants and tropical trees.

A curious scene, which witnessing makes one feel as if living in the Middle Ages, is every day enacted on the Rambla, the main thoroughfare of Barcelona: scribes are seated at tables along the street, ready to write letters for passers-by, seem so out of date, when here typewriters have almost superseded pens. It is surprising to watch the people who employ the writing-masters’ services, not only sailors from the vessels, but well dressed and seemingly educated people, who thus betray the lamentable fact that they are either unable to write, which is generally the case, or else too averse to the exertion. Even men in business, what they call active business, too, carry on their affairs without correspondence, waiting in a leisurely manner until agents from France, Germany, Italy, etc., visit them, which occurs two or three times a year, to get orders for foreign goods; and if anything should be needed in the meantime, it is done with­out rather than to write a letter, so I imagine the proportion of stamps sold in Spain is much less than in other countries of its size and wealth. It is a fine country, and could be one of the wealthiest if only the warm skies and soothing air did not make one more indolent than in a more bracing climate. The people know how to accom­modate themselves to their climate, and take life easily; when the noon-day sun beats down pitilessly on the pale-colored houses, the occupants protect themselves from the glare and heat by having awnings spread above the open patios or courtyards around which their houses are built, and also stretched across the narrow streets from house to house, so that it is possible to walk around a town like Seville, for instance, in mid­day, without suffering from the direct rays of the sun.

One of the every-day sights in all the principal cities on all the streets is the sell­ing of lottery tickets, and I think it safe to say that every man, woman and child invests in these tissue-paper slips, and as the lottery is sanctioned by the government, it is presumably lucrative for it, if not for the people. The drawing takes place at the mint in Madrid at intervals of ten days or two weeks, or sometimes longer, keeping the pos-