On Travel and Other Things 19 



stones of Deucalion, so soon as Spain shall have shaken oif her 

 incubus of lethargy and the tyranny that clogs the wheels of 

 progress. Nor need the interval be long. 



That sound human material continues to exist in rural Spain 

 we have had recent evidence during the calling-out of levies of 

 young troops ordered abroad to serve their country in Morocco. 

 None could witness the entrainment at some remote station of 

 a detachment of these fine lads without being struck by their 

 bearing, their set purpose, and above all their patriotism. With 

 such material, with a well cared -for, contented, and loyal 

 army and a broadening of view, wisely graduated but equally 

 resolute, Spain moves forward. Alfonso XIII. is a soldier first — 

 No ! Above tliat he is a kins^ bv nature, but his care for his 

 army and its well-being has already borne fruits that are making 

 and will make for the honour, safety, and advancement of his 

 country. 



To resume our interrupted note on travel : whether you are 

 riding across bush-clad hills, over far-spread prairie, or through the 

 defiles of the sierra, as shadows lengthen the problem of a night's 

 lodging obtrudes. There is a variety of solutions. At a pinch — 

 as when belated or benighted — one may, in desperate resort, seek 

 shelter in a choza. Now a choza is the reed-thatched hut w^hich 

 forms the rural peasant's lonely home. Assuredly you will be 

 made welcome, and that with a grace and a courtesy — aye, a 

 courtliness — that characterises even the humblest in Spain. The 

 best there is will be at your disposal ; yet — if permissible to say 

 so in face of such splendid hospitality (and in the hope that these 

 good leather-clad friends of ours may not read this book) — the 

 open air is preferable. There exists in a cJioza absolutely no 

 accommodation — not a separate room ; a low settee running 

 round the interior, or a withy frame, forms the bed ; those kindly 

 folk live all tosfether, along with their domestic animals — and 

 pigs are reckoned such in Spain. Let us gratefully pay this due 

 tribute to our peasant friends — but let us sleep outside. 



At each village will usually be found a posada. These difter 

 in degree, mostly from bad downwards. The lowlier sort — little 

 better than the choza — is but a long, low, one-storeyed barn 

 which you share with fellow-wayfarers, and your own and their 



