runs
straight through the house. Two stairways, one on either side, lead to
the second story, the first steps of stone. In the distance beyond,
a court could be seen, a passable conservatory--but bottles on a
table with a counter in front declared that this was a barroom, as
it was. The next thing further was a place where washing was done,
then came empty rooms that might be shops; after this a narrow and
untidy street, and then a livery stable--a sort of monopolistic cab
stand, where a few ponies and carriages were to be found--but no one
understood or did anything as long as possible, except to say that
all the rigs were engaged now and always. However, a little violent
English language, mixed with Spanish, would arouse emotion and excite
commotion eventuating in a pony in harness, and a gig or carriage,
and a desperate driver, expert with a villainous whip used without
occasion or remorse.

The cool place was at the front door, on the sidewalk, seated on a
hard chair, for there was always a breeze. The Spanish guests knew
where the wind blew, and gathered there discussing many questions
that must have deeply interested them. But they had something to eat,
no authority or ability to affect any sort of change, and unfailing
tobacco, the burning of which was an occupation. The ground floor of
the hotel, except the barroom, the washroom, the hall, the conservatory
and the hollow square, had been devoted to shop keeping, but the shop
keepers were gone, perhaps for days and perhaps forever! Stone is
not used to any great extent in house interiors, except within a few
feet of the surface of the earth. Of course, there is no elevator in
a Spanish hotel. That which is wanted is room for the circulation of
air. Above the first flight of stairs the steps have a deep dark red
tinge, and are square and long, so that each extends solidly across
the liberal space allotted to the stairway. The blocks might be some
stone of delightful color, but they are hewn logs, solid and smooth,
of a superb mahogany or some tree of harder wood and deeper luxuriance
of coloring. The bedrooms are immensely high, and in every way ample,
looking on great spaces devoted to wooing the air from the park and the
river. The windows are enormous. Not satisfied with the giant sliding
doors that open on the street, revealing windows--unencumbered with
sash or glass, there are sliding doors under the window sills, that
roll back right and left and offer th