64 The Andes ajstd the Amazon. 



tronomy. The streets make an angle of forty-five degrees 

 with the meridian, so that not a single public building faces 

 any one of the four cardinal points of the compass. Two 

 deep ravines come down the mountain, and traverse the 

 city from west to east. They are mostly covei'ed by arches, 

 on which the houses rest ; but where they are open, they 

 disclose as fit representatives of the place of torment as the 

 Yalley of Hinnom. The outline of the city is as irregular 

 as its surface. It incloses one square mile. Twenty streets, 

 all of them straiter than the apostolic one in Damascus, 

 cross one another very nearly at right angles. None of 

 them are too wide, and the walks are painfully narrow; 

 but, thanks to Garcia Moreno, they are well paved. The 

 inequality of the site, and its elevation above the Machan- 

 gara, render the drainage perfect.* The streets are dimly 

 lighted by tallow candles, every householder being obliged 

 to hang out a lantern at 7 p.m., unless there is moonshine. 

 The candles, however, usually expire about ten o'clock. 

 There are three " squares" — Plaza Mayor, Plaza de San 

 Francisco, and Plaza de Santo Domingo. The first is three 

 hundred feet square, and adorned with trees and flowers ; 

 the others are dusty and unpaved, being used as market- 

 places, where Indians and donkeys most do congregate. 

 All the plazas have fountains fed with pm-e water from 

 Pichincha. 



Few buildings can boast of architectural beauty, yet 

 Quito looks palatial to the traveler who has just emerged 



* The following quotation, however, is true to the letter, and will apply 

 equally well to Guayaquil and to Madrid — the mother of them both : "There 

 is another want still more embarrassing in Quito than the want of hotels — it 

 is the want of water-closets and privies, which are not considered as neces- 

 sary fixtures of private residences. Men, women, and children, of all ages 

 and colors, may be seen in the middle of the street, in broad daylight, mak- 

 ing privies of the most public thoroughfares ; and while thus engaged, they 

 will stare into the faces of passers-by with a shamelessness that beggars de- 

 scription." — Hassaurek. 



