200 JOURNAL. 
over, and the friends had retired, the gates were shut carefully, the 
family went to their principal meal — a hot supper; and, as I never 
eat at night, I retired to my room highly pleased with the gen- 
tle and kind manners, and hospitable frankness of my new friends, 
and too tired to think of any thing but sleep. It was so long since 
I had heard a watchman that I could scarcely believe my ears, when 
the sound of “ Ave Maria purissima las onzes de noche y sereno,” 
reached me as I was undressing, and awakened many a remembrance 
associated with 
‘ The bellman’s drowsy charm, 
To bless the doors from nightly harm.” 
25th. — My first object this morning was to examine the disposi- 
tion of the different apartments of the house I amin; and first I went 
to the gate by which I entered, and looked along the wall on either 
hand in vain for a window looking to the street. The house, like all 
those to which my eye reached, presented a low white wall with an 
enormous projecting tiled roof: in the centre a great portal with 
folding gates, and by it a little tower called the Alto, with windows 
and a balcony at the top, where I have my apartment; and under 
it, close by the gate, is the porter’s lodge. This portal admits one 
into a great paved quadrangle, into which various apartments open: 
those on either hand appeared to be store-rooms : opposite, are the 
sala or drawing-room, the principal bed-room, which is also a public 
sitting room, and one or two smaller public rooms; behind this band 
of building there is a second quadrangle laid out in flower-plots, 
shaded with fruit trees, and of which a pleasant veranda makes part. 
Here the young people of the family often sit, and either receive 
visits or pursue their domestic occupations. Round this court or 
pateo, the private apartments of the family are arranged ; and behind 
them there is-a smaller court, where the kitchen, offices, and servants’ 
apartments are placed, and through which, as in most houses in San- 
tiago, a plentiful stream of water is always running. 
This disposition of the houses, though pleasant enough to the in- 
habitants, is ugly without, and gives a mean, dull air to the streets, 
