ontact with those of inferior rank; and the
peasant is far too proud to importune his superiors by any indiscreet
efforts at familiarity.

At Burgos I found the _Gefe politico_, or governor of the province,
sipping his lemonade in the evening at the _cafe_; his elbow brushing
the back of a mayoral of a diligence, and surrounded by an assemblage of
all classes of the male inhabitants of the town. These cafes are curious
establishments; they are divided into two classes--the Cafe, properly
so called, and the Botilleria--in which tea and coffee are not usually
called for, but all the other refreshments of the cafe; such as
_helados_ (frozen beverages of all sorts), _sorbetes_ (ices), liqueurs,
wines, etc. These latter are the resort, in some towns, of both sexes,
and indeed the cafes also in a less degree. But the etiquette in these
things differs in the different provinces.

At Madrid, where foreign customs first penetrate, ladies are rarely seen
in these resorts; by which they are considerable losers. No doubt, were
the attractions of French cafes sufficiently powerful, your sex would
not have withered them, by their disdain, into the uncivilized dens
which they are. You are not of course invited by the billiard tables, or
by the allurements of black coffee and cognac; but were the waiters to
set before you a tumbler of frozen lemonade after a July evening's dusty
walk, you would speedily bring such habits into fashion.

Much as the refreshments of Spanish cafes have been celebrated, their
fame is surpassed by the reality. It is only when you have panted
through a southern summer's day, and breathed an atmosphere of fire,
that you are disposed to receive the illustration of the full sense of
the word refreshment; and it is then they hand you a brobdignag goblet,
brim full of frozen orange-water or lemonade, or snow-white
orgeat--which, from the imperceptible inroads made by the teaspoon on
its closing-up surface, appears likely to last you the whole night.
These and other similar luxuries, including the ices, at which those of
a Grange or Tortoni would melt with jealousy, are plentiful in second
and third-rate towns, and rank among the necessaries of life, rather
than as objects of indulgence. They are of course cheap, or it would not
answer.

The poor apply to the distributors of iced barley-water, who carry about
a sort of cask, strapped between their shoulders, and containing ice in
the centre, to maintain the fri