essed and sparkling with jewelry which betrays her want of
modesty. She is of the true Andalusian type, olive complexion,
coal-black hair with eyes to match, and long dark lashes; petite in
figure and youthful, but aged in experience. Bonnetless, her luxuriant
hair is set high upon her head, held by a square tortoise-shell comb,
and carelessly thrown off her forehead with a parting on one side. Be
sure some sad story underlies her career. She is of just that gypsy
cast that painters love to delineate. They sit down at a side table
and order ices, cake, and champagne. These are consumed amid jests and
laughter, the spurious champagne, at a fabulous cost, is drunk
merrily, the hours creep on, and the couple retire to give place to
others, after having furnished a picture of the fast, false life of
these brilliant, but dissipated haunts.

Some of these cafes are more exclusive than others, where respectable
ladies and gentlemen can retire after the band has ceased its
performance, and enjoy the cooling influence of an ice. The Louvre,
just opposite the Plaza de Isabella and adjoining the Tacon Theatre,
is one of such. These establishments couple with their current evening
business that of the manufacture of choice preserves for domestic use
and also for export, the fruits of the island supplying the basis for
nearly a hundred varieties of fruit preserves, which find large sales
in our Northern cities and in Europe.

In carnival week these cafes do an immense business; it is the harvest
of their year. People who can hardly afford three meals a day pinch
themselves and suffer much self-denial that they may have money to
spend in carnival week. The public masquerade balls, which then take
place, allure all classes. The celebrations of the occasion culminate
in a grand public masquerade ball given in the Tacon Theatre. The
floor of the parquette is temporarily raised to a level with the
boxes and the stage, the entire floor or lower part of the house being
converted into a grand ball-room. The boxes and galleries are thrown
open free to the public. The music, furnished by two military bands,
alternating in their performance, is kept up until broad daylight,
while the participants come and go as they please. A little after
midnight an organization called the comparzas comes upon the scene. It
is composed of men, boys, and women, all masked, who have practiced
for the occasion some emblematic dance to perform for their own and