DINNER CUSTOMS. 



333 



in spirit that I had not sent notice for Mr. Catherwood 

 to come to the village accidentally in time to get an in- 

 vitation. But it was too late now ; there was no time 

 for reflection ; every moment the dinner was going. 

 In some places my position would have required me to 

 devote myself to those on each side of me ; but at Pa- 

 lenque they devoted themselves to me. If I stopped 

 a moment my plate was whipped away, and another 

 brought, loaded with something else. It may seem 

 unmannerly, but I watched the fate of certain dishes, 

 particularly some dolces or sweetmeats, hoping they 

 would not be entirely consumed, as I purposed to se- 

 cure all that should be left to take with me to the ruins. 

 Wine was on the table, which was recommended to me 

 as coming from New-York, but this was not enough to 

 induce me to taste it. There was no water, and, by- 

 the-way, water is never put on the table, and never 

 drunk until after the dolces, which come on as the last 

 course, when it is served in a large tumbler, which 

 passes round for each one to sip from. It is entirely 

 irregular and ill bred to ask for water during the meal. 

 Each guest, as he rose from the table, bowed to Don 

 Santiago, and said " muchas gratias," which I con- 

 sidered in bad taste, and not in keeping with the deli- 

 cacy of Spanish courtesy, as the host ought rather to 

 thank his guests for their society than they to thank 

 him for his dinner. Nevertheless, as I had more rea- 

 son to be thankful than any of them, I conformed to 

 the example set me. After dinner my friends became 

 drowsy and retired to siesta. I found my way back 

 to Don Santiago's house, where, in a conversation with 

 the ladies, I secured the remains of the dolces, and 

 bought out his stock of vermicelli. 



In the morning, my foot being sufficiently recovered, 



