and preserves, but the meats were poor. Fish
was always fresh and good in Havana. Coffee and tea were poor. If one
desires to procure good coffee, as a rule, look for it anywhere rather
than in countries where it is grown. Cleanliness was not considered as
being an indispensable virtue in the Telegrafo. Drainage received but
little attention, and the domestic offices of the house were seriously
offensive. The yellow fever does not prevail in Havana except in
summer, say from May to October; but according to recognized sanitary
rules it should rage there every month in the year. The hotels in
peninsular Spain are dirty enough to disgust any one, but those of
Havana are a degree worse in this respect. Any of our readers who
have chanced in their travels upon the Fonda de Rafaela, for
instance, at Burgos, in Spain, will understand us fully. It was of no
use to remove elsewhere; after examining the other hotels it was
thought best to remain at the Telegrafo, on the principle adopted by
the Irishman, who, though not inclined to believe in Purgatory, yet
accepted this item of faith lest he should go further and fare worse.
There is the San Carlos Hotel, near the wharves, which is more of a
family than a travelers' resort; the Hotel Pasaje, in Prado Street,
quite central; Hotel Europe, in La Plaza de San Francisco; and Hotels
Central and Ingleterra: the last two are opposite the Plaza de
Isabella, and are in the midst of noise and gayety. Arrangements can
be made at any of these houses for board by the day, or on the
European plan; all have restaurants.

There are some very attractive summer resorts in the environs of the
city, one of the nearest and prettiest of which is El Cerro (the
hill), one league from town. It has a number of remarkably pleasant
country-seats, some of which have extensive gardens, rivaling that of
the Captain-General in extent. But to reach Cerro one has to drive
over a road which is in such want of repair as to be dangerous,
gullied by the rains, and exhibiting holes two feet deep, liable to
break the horses' legs and the wheels of the vehicles. Here is a road,
close to Havana, with stones weighing hundreds of pounds on the
surface, in the very wheel-tracks. Handsome hedges of the wild pine,
the aloe, and the Spanish bayonet line the road, where an occasional
royal palm, the emblem of majesty, stands alone, adding grandeur to
all the surroundings. If you drive out to Cerro, put on a linen
duster; othe