ly, a queer world. Death with impartial summons knocks at the cabin
of the poor and the palace of the wealthy; but in the undertaker's
interest the equality of the grave must not be conceded. The plebeian
who commits _felo de se_ is served properly if he is hidden at the
cross-roads by night and a stake driven through his body. The lunatic
King who drowns himself, and drags his doctor to the same fate--who is a
suicide duplicated with the suspicion of murder--is embalmed and laid to
rest in consecrated ground amid incense and music, lights and flowers,
the tolling of bells, and the chanting of dirges.

The funeral was over; they were just finishing the _De Profundis_. My
countryman had to quit me. "_Oyeh!_ that fellow who was making such a
lamentation might be married agin in a twelvemonth. The army plan was
the best; after the 'Dead March' in _Saul_ came 'Tow-row-row.'--another
so'jer was to be had for a shilling. He did not drink; he thanked me all
the same--had taken the pledge from Father Mathew whin he was a boy, and
meant to stick by it; but he would accept the price of a singing-bird he
had set his mind upon, since it was pressed upon him."

Gibraltar is but a huge garrison. In the moat by the gate, as I
re-entered, a big drummer and a tiny mannikin-soldier with cymbals were
practising how to lead off a marching-past tune. The "Fortune of War"
tavern elbows "Horse-Barrack Lane;" a print of "The Siege of Kars" is
side by side in a shop-window with Dr. Bennett's "Songs for Soldiers."
The Plazas and Calles of the mainland of Spain have been parted with.
The names of streets, hostelries, and stores are English. Instead of
tiendas and almacenes and fondas, you have fancy repositories,
regimental shoe-shops, and porter-houses. There, for example, is the
celebrated "Cock and Bottle," and farther on "The Calfs Head Hotel." If
you traverse Cathedral Square, no larger than an ordinary-sized
skittle-alley, you arrive by Sunnyside Steps to the Europa Pass. Notices
are posted by the roadside cautioning against plucking flowers or
treading on the beds under pain of prosecution. But the bazaar bewilders
you with its alien figures, its confusion of tongues, and its eccentric
contrasts of dress. In five minutes you meet Spanish officers; nuns in
broad-leaved white bonnets; a bearded sergeant nursing a baby;
bare-legged, sun-burnished Moors; pink-and-white cheeked ladies'-maids
from Kent; local mashers in such outrageously garish