Our Get Up and Set Off 



vated by the harrowingly dubious separation, of things 

 absolutely necessary on the road to go in the alforjas^ from 

 the chaos of a voluminous portmanto, containing almost all 

 my worldly goods of any importance. 



However, one after another, all things came about : and 

 on Tuesday, February 24th, with our voluminous cloaks 

 and plethoric alforjas over our shoulders, many pistols in 

 our fajas (scarf-belts), and all got up in the thorough con- 

 trabandtsta style, we sallied forth from the numero tres 

 segundo Calle de Velasquez, where I had lived during my 

 sojourn of four months in Seville. We wended our way 

 across the vast dismantled gap in the heart of the city, left 

 by the destruction of the great convent of San Francisco, 

 and came to the stables. We had a slight altercation with 

 the livery-man, a fat thief, who wished to charge us for 

 more days than our ponies had been in pupilage. 



It was about ten o'clock of a bright, warm morning, 

 when, aiming at the Puerta de Carmona, we hit that of La 

 Carne, and therethrough sallied forth upon Spain at large. 

 Having studiously avoided to study the maps and guide- 

 books (which we, nevertheless, carried with us, in case of 

 need), we rode directly towards our favourite peak in the 

 horizon, conversing — a-propos of our late brush with the 

 stableman — on the most effectual way of dealing with 

 Spanish louts. In this controversy, Harry advocated the 

 sharp and decisive sternness of an assumed superiority, and 

 I a mild and persuasive gentleness ; so it was agreed that, 

 in our next difficulty, I was to shine first, and if fair weather 

 failed, then he should thunder afterwards. 



Passing, in discussion, the dark-green, golden-dotted 

 orange groves and spiry cypresses which encircle the city, 

 we came to a little bridge with a great hole broken through 

 its arch, and, strange to say, workmen mending it. Then, 



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