to squeeze into the spare apartment.
A few succeed in establishing a permanent footing in the room, and the
rest stand at the doorway and window, or burst through the chamber by a
back door into an open yard. In carnival time, everybody's house is
everybody else's castle.

There is a perfect Babel at the French criolla's. Some are endeavouring
to dance with little more terra firma to gyrate upon than 'La Nena' had
on her foot square of table. Others are beating time on tables, trays,
and tin pots. Somebody has brought a dismal accordion, but he is so
jammed up in a corner by the dancers, that more wind is jerked out of
him than he can possibly jerk out of his instrument. The man with the
faint guitar is no better off. Every now and then a verse of dreary song
is pronounced by one of the dancers.

Here is a specimen:--

iAy! Caridad; iay! Caridad; iay! Caridad,
Cuidao' con la luna si te da.
iCa-la-ba-zon! tu estas pinton.

(Oh! Charity, Charity, foolish Charity.
Beware of the moon, and avoid her _clarity_!)

There is a pause--an interval of ten minutes or so for refreshments.
English bottled ale, at two shillings the bottle, is dispensed, together
with intensely black coffee, which leaves a gold-brown stain on the cup
in proof of its genuineness; and this is followed by the indispensable
nip of the native brandy, called aguardiente. Stumps of damp cigars are
abandoned for fresh ones, and the air is redolent of smoke, beer, and
brown perspiration. If you remain long in this atmosphere, which reminds
you of a combination of a London cook-shop and a museum of stuffed birds
and mummies, you will become impregnated by it, and then not all the
perfumes of Araby will eradicate it from your system.

I need not go far to witness the street sights in carnival time. Many of
them I can enjoy from my position on my balcony. 'Enter' the shade of an
Othello in false whiskers. He is attired in a red shirt, top boots, and
a glazed cap. In his mouth is a clay pipe; in his hand a black bottle:
both products of Great Britain. He is followed by a brother black, in
the disguise of a gentleman, with enormous shirt collars and heavy
spectacles. In his arms rests a colossal volume, upon which his
attention is riveted, and against the brim of his napless hat is stuck a
lighted taper. He stumbles along with uneven step, and occasionally
pauses for the purpose of giving tongue to his profound cogitations. The
crowd