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CONVENT AT SANTIAGO. 



ment. They were praying as if they were sick and 

 tired of it, and as if they neither cared nor knew 

 what they were saying. Four or five were playing 

 on fiddles, which they held up to their necks like 

 men — one was sawing an immense double bass, and 

 another was blowing with a large hand-bellows into 

 the lungs of a little organ, on which a sister-nun 

 was playing. They all sang together, and I never 

 heard sounds less melodious. Age had taken all 

 softness from their voices, and had left nothing 

 but a noise which was harsh, squeaking, and dis- 

 cordant. The women were old and ugly, and the 

 scene altogether was saddening. Their dresses 

 consisted of white caps and large black gowns- — 

 their hair was concealed, and their features were so 

 hard, that it was difficult to say whether they were 

 old men or old women : — the serge gown concealed 

 their figures — figures which were intended as the 

 ornaments of creation. When one fancied the 

 lives they might have led — the assistance they might 

 have afforded to society — the friendships they might 

 have enjoyed, and the pleasing natural duties they 

 might have performed, it was melancholy to see 

 them lost to the world, and only occupied in scream- 



