150 RAMBLES AFTER SPORT. 



picture in a cliurcli here, wliicli an attendant stowed me 

 as '^ a work of art from Europe V The subject, I was 

 told, was the return of the Prodigal Son. The prodigal 

 was represented as a young gentleman in white trousers 

 and a blue jacket, with an amiable expression of counte- 

 nance ; the father was tastefully attired in a black dress 

 coat and high stock, surrounded by three young ladies in 

 dressing gowns. I asked the man just out of curiosity 

 what the value of the picture was. " Oh, senor, I don't 

 know; but algo, senor, algo'' — something handsome. 

 It had no frame, and I should say that its full value in 

 Shoreditch might have been 5s. 9d. 



The heat in Guayaquil is really fearful ; people there 

 are quietly boiled to death. A European gets done 

 in about six years ; if very tough, he may take ten^ 

 Through the lower part of the town runs a small stream, 

 excessively muddy, and not at all inviting, and it was an 

 interesting and instructive sight to see three or four fat 

 women, in long cotton gowns, wallowing in the water. I 

 beg pardon, I should say it was not interesting; but then 

 it seemed so like being in the "Zoo" watching the 

 hippopotamus in his bath. The men in Ecuador are 

 excessively obliging and polite, and the ladies sleep all 

 day and dance all night; a great deal of cocoa is 

 exported ; you can get a splendid pine for 6d. ; the 

 mosquitoes are — well, peculiar; the chocolate the finest in 

 the world ; and that's about all I need say of Guayaquil. 



From here a small steamer starts every other day for 

 Bodegas, on the road to Quito, the capital ; the journey, 

 despite absurd and ridiculous stories to the contrary, 

 is one that I should have not the slightest hesitation 

 in taking any lady, and I am sure she would enjoy it. 

 The price of passage all through to Quito is about 



