The Museum 



loose in the manger, we concluded it was best to lock up 

 our room and leave our things, and go out to sup anywhere 

 we could find in the cafes of the city. 



Taking a look in at the stable, we found one of our per- 

 severing donkeys had got in again by some means, and was 

 eating voraciously out of the Moor's manger. We kicked 

 him out ignominiously with the vehement foot of im- 

 patience, fastened the door of the courtyard, and left the 

 Moor and Cid munching languidly alone. 



We wandered among gay crowds of people taking the 

 fresco under the colonnades of Valladolid's Quadrant, found 

 the Cafe de Cervantes, supped, and went home to bed. 



Next morning our host was sober and civil, and it 

 seemed that, when out of his cups, the young wife could 

 manage him like a child. We breakfasted at the cafe^ saw 

 the museum, where there are very few good pictures, and 

 a great many bad and clumsy and vulgar statues by 

 Hernandez, a celebrated sculptor, in painted wood. There 

 was a striking little statue of a tall meagre St. Francis, which 

 did not look as if it had been cut by the same chisel, though 

 the showman said it was. It looked more like the 

 handiwork of Cano. There was some very fine oak 

 carving by Berruguete. 



We took a Gothic and Vandalic glance at the university 

 and library, and went to the other side of the city to look at 

 the silversmiths' shops, which are said to have a style 

 peculiar to Valladolid. The Puenta de la Plateria had 

 been pulled down, but the Calle de la Plateria has a good 

 many silversmiths' shops. I saw nothing that attracted the 

 eye of cupidity, except a little hook-and-eye of silver filigree, 

 which I bought, though I am very poor. On the most 

 moderate calculation, we shall be ten days getting to Irun, 

 and I have only nine five-franc pieces. Harry has twelve. 



362 



