SPAIN : WINE, RAISINS, AND OLIVES. 125 



We passed one village, which, with a few exceptions, was built 

 in the ancient style of the renowned city of Petra, in Arabia; 

 only, instead of being hewn in the rock, the houses, or rather cel- 

 lars, are dug in a clay hill. Ilcrc in the cellars, without win- 

 dows, the people live. In the rear of these habitations is a hole 

 which serves for a chimney. • 



On the plains of New Mexico, famous for their numerous squir- 

 rels, their holes are called villages ; but what shall I call this ? 

 my English is too defective to give it an appropriate name. 



On approaching Valladolid, I saw some few vines planted, 

 but without stakes, and allowed to grow as they pleased, having 

 about five to eight feet distance between. They are plowed by 

 a yoke of oxen ; afterward the ground is piled up around them. 

 Corn and potatoes are also planted. The soil is sandy and yel- 

 low ; and the wine I tasted was most rascally stuff, being made 

 worse by being kept in hide bags made of calves' skin. Vines 

 continue to be planted in spots almost all the way to Madrid. 



At eight o'clock in the evening we started from Madrid, on our 

 way toward Malaga. We were drawn to the railroad depot by six 

 fine gray horses. Here we all got out, and, to my great astonish- 

 ment, the hundred buckles holding up the baggage were undone, 

 and all taken off and put into the cars. The distance from the 

 diligence ofl&ce to the railway station was only from ten to fifteen 

 minutes' ride, and I could not make out why all that trouble was 

 taken to put on our baggage, when it had to be taken off again 

 so soon. Why not give the passengers a rendezvous at the sta- 

 tion? Much time and trouble would be saved them. To all my 

 inquiries no one could give an answer. They have few practical 

 ideas here at present. When all the baggage was removed the 

 diligence was taken back to the city, where the horses will re- 

 main a day and a half idle. 



After some whistling, backing, etc., we started, and soon lost 

 sight of Madrid. The moon was beautiful, and, as I lay in my 

 seat looking out of the window, I imagined myself back in 

 New Mexico traveling in cars. There was, in fact, some resem- 

 blance, except that on the Plains we sometimes pass a cotton- 

 wood-tree ; here not a bush could be seen. Passing several vil- 

 lages, all desolate and uninviting, we at last came to the place 

 where we had again to take the diligence. It was two in the 

 morning. When the baggage came into the baggage-room there 

 was a general rush, each passenger laying his hands upon any 



