since; but it was quietly whispered about that the corporation
had failed to pay for this service last year, and that the monopoly
itself was on the verge of bankruptcy, like nearly everything else of
a business character in Cuba. The gaslights certainly appeared pale
and sickly enough, as though only half confirmed in the purpose of
giving any light at all, and were prematurely extinguished in many of
the streets. In the shops, whose fronts were all open, like those of
Canton and Yokohama, the clerks were to be seen in their shirt
sleeves, guiltless of vests or collars, coquetting over calicoes and
gaudy-colored merinos with mulatto girls decked in cheap jewelry, and
with negresses wearing enormous hoop-earrings. At the approach of
evening the bar-rooms and saloons, with a liberal display of
looking-glasses, bottles of colored liquors, gin, and glitter, were
dazzling to behold. The marble tables were crowded with domino and
card players, each sipping at intervals his favorite tipple. The
sidewalks are so narrow that the pedestrian naturally seeks the middle
of the street as a pathway, and the half a dozen victorias and four
volantes which form the means of transportation in Santiago, and which
are constantly wandering about in search of a job, manage to meet or
to overtake one perpetually; causing first a right oblique, then a
left oblique, movement, with such regularity as to amount to an
endless zig-zag. We did not exactly appreciate the humor of this
annoyance, but perhaps the drivers did. After climbing and descending
these narrow, dirty streets by daylight and by gaslight, and watching
the local characteristics for a few hours, one is only too happy to
take a boat back to the ship, and leave all behind.

A desire for a cold bath and a good swim is natural in this climate
after sunset, but beware of indulging this inclination in the waters
of Santiago. Under that smooth, inviting surface, glistening beneath
the rays of a full moon, lurk myriads of sharks. They are large,
hungry, man-eating creatures, the tigers of the ocean, and the dread
of all local boatmen here. To fall overboard in these waters, however
good a swimmer one may be, is simply to be devoured. At Singapore,
Sumatra, or Batavia, a Malay will for a consideration dive into the
waters of the Malacca Straits, armed with a long, sharp knife, boldly
attack a shark, and rip open his bowels at the moment when he turns on
his side to give the deadly bite. Bu