of 1255 feet above the level of the sea; and the
fatigue of the ascent is more than compensated by the view of the
splendid natural panorama, spread out like a map around us. The bay of
Gibraltar, with the houses of the town of Algeciras, are distinctly
visible; so, too, is the southern range of the Ronda mountains, the
purple Mediterranean, with the immense jumble of Afric's sparkling
shores, the Atlas mountains, the Neutral ground, and the Spanish lines.
These are some of the objects which never tire the eye. The precipices
below us are amazingly steep, in some cases the heights even overhang.
Many precious lives were lost through inadvertent steps during the first
occupation; and this suggests to me a story I have read somewhere, and
which I will ask your pardon for telling you.

A young officer of the garrison, who with a brother officer was on guard
one day, suddenly missed his companion; and on retracing his steps a
little he saw his poor friend's mangled body about 400 feet below. The
sub, however, made no reference or allusion to this accident in his
report. His commanding officer, on being informed of the sad business,
immediately summoned his subordinate before him, and demanded an
explanation of his conduct, the following dialogue taking place between
them:--"You say, sir, in your report, 'N.B.--nothing extraordinary since
guard mounting,' when your brother officer, who was on guard with you,
has fallen over a precipice 400 feet high and been killed! call you this
nothing?" Our sub, who hailed from 'auld reekie,' thus replied, "Weel,
sir, I dinna think there is onything extraordinary in that; had he fa'n
doon a precipice 400 feet high, and _not_ been killed, I should ha'e
thocht it vera extraordinary indeed, and would ha'e put it doon in my
report!"

I think we have found the down journey not nearly so difficult or
wearying as the ascent, for we are in the town ere we are aware of it,
and following in the wake of a throng of people, seemingly all heading
in one direction. As we have still a few hours left us we will accompany
them, and make a study of Spanish life by gaslight.

Graceful, black-eyed women, instinct with loveliness and vivacity, claim
our first notice--first, because they are ladies, and, secondly, because
of their becoming attire and the natural grace of their movements; for
theirs is "the very poetry of motion." We have all possibly seen
pictures of Spanish women, and may have, no doubt, r