and straightness. It is in the
newer quarter that it recalls Rome or the newer quarters of Rome; but
there is an old part of it that recalls the older part of Naples, though
the streets are not quite so narrow nor the houses so high. There
is like bargaining at the open stands with the buyers and sellers
chaffering over them; there is a likeness in the people's looks, too,
but when it comes to the most characteristic thing of Naples, Madrid is
not in it for a moment. I mean the bursts of song which all day long and
all night long you hear in Naples; and this seems as good a place as any
to say that to my experience Spain is a songless land. We had read much
of the song and dance there, but though the dance might be hired the
song was never offered for love or money. To be sure, in Toledo, once,
a woman came to her door across the way under otir hotel window and sang
over the slops she emptied into the street, but then she shut the door
and we heard her no more. In Cordova there was as brief a peal of music
from a house which we passed, and in Algeciras we heard one short sweet
strain from a girl whom we could not see behind her lattice. Besides
these chance notes we heard no other by any chance. But this is by no
means saying that there is not abundant song in Spain, only it was kept
quiet; I suppose that if we had been there in the spring instead of the
fall we should at least have heard the birds singing. In Madrid there
were not even many street cries; a few in the Puerta del Sol, yes; but
the peasants who drove their mule-teams through the streets scarcely
lifted their voices in reproach or invitation; they could trust the wise
donkeys that led them to get them safely through the difficult places.
There was no audible quarreling among the cabmen, and when you called a
cab it was useless to cry "Heigh!" or shake your umbrella; you made
play with your thumb and finger in the air and sibilantly whispered;
otherwise the cabman ignored you and went on reading his newspaper. The
cabmen of Madrid are great readers, much greater, I am sorry to say,
than I was, for whenever I bought a Spanish paper I found it extremely
well written. Now and then I expressed my political preferences in
buying _El Liberal_ which I thought very able; even _El Imparcial_ I
thought able, though it is less radical than _El Liberal,_ a paper which
is published simultaneously in Madrid, with local editions in several
provincial cities.

For all the