120 RAMBLES AFTER SPORT. 



something of that sort. There was always a shade of 

 anger or disappointment on my questioner's face, and I 

 noticed that almost invariably the conversation ended 

 with *' Oh, you must see Santiago ; something like a 

 city ; finest in South America.'^ This continual dinning 

 in my ears about Santiago made me think I had better 

 go as quick as possible, and accordingly, in company 

 with two friends, I left the Valparaiso station by the 

 express train at eight o'clock in the morning for 

 Santiago, distant about 120 miles. The carriages I 

 found about the same as the ordinary run of those at 

 home, and the fare was £1 — a cheap enough ride, I 

 must admit. The line is a Government monopoly 

 entirely, and was built partly by the ubiquitous Mr. 

 Meiggs and partly by Mr. Garland. The country 

 immediately outside Valparaiso is uninteresting ; the 

 appearance, however, rapidly improves, and now and 

 then I saw some of the most charming casaquintas or 

 country villas it is possible to conceive. Koses and 

 other flowers loaded the air with their perfume, while 

 the shimmering trees and long rows of vines afforded a 

 harbouring shade for numberless birds. All this is 

 accomplished by the most ordinary care and a little 

 water. From Limache to Quillota the country is per- 

 fection, excepting always the want, to an English eye, of 

 woodland scenery. The general aspect of the land was 

 broad jpotreros, or fields of knee-deep grass, inter- 

 sected at regular intervals by walnut trees or standard 

 peaches, and divided from each other by mud adobe 

 walls and a row of the everlasting poplars. These poplar 

 groves are scattered everywhere over the country be- 

 tween Valparaiso and Santiago, sometimes extending for 

 a mile in length. Occasionally we passed a vineyard — a 



