and which is, therefore, unintelligible and devoid of interest. The
editor of the _Diario_ is extremely lenient in his reports of
theatrical entertainments, and on him the manager, at least, may always
rely. His contemporary and rival, the editor of the _Redactor_,
government organ, is seated in a stall near his excellency the
governor-general, who is enthroned in a wide stage-box, and is dressed
in full uniform, covered with orders. His excellency is accompanied by
an aide-de-camp and half a dozen bronze-faced, heavily moustached
officers, all of whom are more or less adorned with orders, crosses, and
other military decorations. In the bend of the theatre are the boxes of
the English and American consuls; and within earshot of where Tunicu and
I are seated, is the box occupied by Cachita, her parents and sister,
whom we visit between the acts.

But what are those mysterious enclosures with trellis-work before them
on either side of the proscenium? Those are special private boxes for
the use of persons or families who are still in a state of
half-mourning, and may not yet expose themselves to public scrutiny. But
these boxes are not always occupied by mourners, whispers Tunicu, in
great confidence. There are a certain class, he tells me, who wear a
kind of half-mourning, which never becomes out of fashion; these are the
half-castes or quadroons, who dare not be seen in public with
acknowledged white people. The gallery is as usual devoted to soldiers,
sailors, and persons of slender means; and in the extreme background are
a few benches set apart for the exclusive accommodation of mulatto girls
and negroes of both sexes, most of whom are elegantly attired; for
coloured people are scrupulous in their dress on all public occasions.

After the overture--a medley of Cuban dance music and Spanish fandango,
played upon ordinary instruments by black musicians--a big bell, to
summon all stragglers to their places, is heard, the curtain is raised,
and the performance begins. There is nothing peculiar in a Cuban drama
except that no allusion to political matters is made, and that the
profane and immoral are somewhat freely indulged in. The comic players
perplex the prompter with inordinate gagging, and delight in
personalities with occupants of the orchestra and pit. There is much
applause when the comic man shuffles through the charinga--a popular
negro dance, difficult of performance, and shouts of laughter are
produced in the