e outskirts of the square and in the line of march. The
promenaders form a kind of animated oval as they parade the boundaries
of the gravel walk, and they consist chiefly of ladies attired in pretty
muslin dresses, but divested of all head covering save that which nature
lavishly supplies. The interior of the moving oval thus formed is
exclusively occupied by gentlemen, dressed either in suits of white
drill, Panama hats, and shoes of Spanish leather, or in black coats and
tall beaver 'bombas.' These fashionables wander about their allotted
ground, occasionally halting to contemplate the moving panorama of
divinities, by which they are encircled. There is much to admire in the
plainest of Creoles, whether the point of attraction be her graceful
manner of walking--and in this no other lady can equal her--the taste
exhibited in her dress, or in the arrangement of her luxuriant hair.

My friend Tunicu is a great authority upon the subject of Cuban beauty,
and appears to be a favourite with everybody. Like most young Creoles of
his kind, Tunicu prides himself upon his intimacy with everybody of
importance in the town. From his point of view, the inhabitants of
Santiago belong to one gigantic family, the different members of which
are all, more or less, related to one another, and to him. Tunicu has
this family, so to speak, at his fingers' ends, and is full of
information respecting their antecedents and their private concerns. He
points out for me some of the leading families who are present at the
promenade. He shows me which are the Palacios, the Castillos, the
Torres, the Brooks, and the Puentes. Those cane chairs are occupied by
the Agramontes, the Duanys, the Vinents, and the Quintanas. Upon the
stone benches are seated the Bravos, the Valientes, and the Villalons.
Those ladies who have just joined the promenaders belong to the
distinguished families of the Ferrers, the Fajados, the Fuentes, the
Castros, and the Colases. He offers to present me to any of the company
whom I may care to become acquainted with; and in proof of his intimacy
with everybody who passes us, he salutes many of the ladies, and
addresses them, whether they be married or single, by their Christian
names.

'Adios, Carmecita!' he remarks, as a young lady of that name sails by
us.

'Au revoir, Manuelica!' he says to a dark beauty with remarkably large
eyes and exaggerated eyelashes.

'A tus pies, lovely Teresita!' says he to another olive-compl