lancent pas de flammes, le pied est sans gentillesse, l'epiderme ne
reflete pas les rayons du soleil." The ladies on the coast take all
possible pains to preserve the small size of the foot; a large foot is
held in horror. Von Tschudi once overheard some ladies extolling in high
terms the beauty of an English lady; all their praise, however, ending
with this exclamation, "But what a foot! Good heavens! it is like a
great boat!" Gibbon is continually talking of beautiful senoras and
senoritas on the Andes; surely the lieutenant is in sport.[28]

[Footnote 28: "The young ladies of Cuzco are, in general, very
beautiful, with regular features, fresh olive complexions, bright eyes
full of intelligence, furnished with long lashes, and masses of black
hair plaited in two tails."--_Markham_.]

The ladies of Quito give few entertainments for lack of ready money.
They spend much of their time in needle-work and gossip, sitting like
Turkish sultanas on divans or the floor. They do not rise at your
entrance or departure. They converse in a very loud, unmusical voice. We
never detected bashfulness in the street or parlor. They go to mass
every morning, and make visits of etiquette on Sundays. They take more
interest in political than in domestic affairs. Dust and cobwebs are
unmistakable signs of indifference. Brooms are rarities; such as exist
are besoms made of split stick. Since our return, we have sent to a
Quitonian gentleman, by request, a package of broom-corn seed, which, we
trust, will be the forerunner of a harvest of brooms and cleaner floors
in the high city. Not only the lords, but also the ladies, are
inveterate smokers. Little mats are used for spittoons.

[Illustration: Washerwomen.]

Perhaps Quitonian ladies have too many Indian servants about them to
keep tidy; seven or eight is the average number for a family. These are
married, and occupy the ground floor, which swarms with nude children.
They are cheap, thievish, lazy, and filthy. No class, pure-blood or
half-breed, is given to ablution, though there are two public baths in
the city. Washerwomen repair to the Machangara, where they beat the
dirty linen of Quito over the smooth rocks. We remember but two or
three table-cloths which entirely covered the table, and only one which
was clean. There are but two daily meals; one does not feel the need of
more; they are partaken at nine and three, or an hour earlier than in
Guayaquil. When two unwashed, uncombed co