V; 
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alemedo for the passao, or walk. Such is the Span¬ 
ish lady’s day. She has, however, her creadas to 
look after; and, above all, her dresses to make or 
superintend, and her graceful mantilla to arrange. It 
is quite a striking sight to pass down the streets, from 
six to eight at night, and see the graceful carriage of 
to rise up refreshed for another eventful day. As re¬ 
gards the master of the house, he really seems to have 
but one interest in life, and that is politics. He may 
ride out to view his olive farm or hill mine; and you 
will certainly meet him in his shop, his casino, or 
his friend’s casa, smoking the inevitable cigarillo, 
A GLIMPSE OF SPANISH LIFE. 
All the Spaniards rise, as a rule, at five or six in 
the summer to enjoy the only enjoyable time of the 
Interior op Pretty English Conservatory. 
the head, and the stately upright walk of the Spanish 
ladies, with their long white dresses trailing behind 
them in a cloud of dust. How they manage to walk 
over the rough, uupaved, uneven streets without a 
trip is a mystery. At about ten all retire to rest, 
and chatting, or making a bargain. But there is 
absolutely no reading of any sort, not even a book 
of the calibre of a three-volume novel. Politics, 
politics, are everything to him, and of politics he seems 
never to tire. 
