was too fine for Creole haste and disrelish.

He made his home in a room with one dormer window looking out, and
somewhat down, upon a building opposite, which still stands, flush with
the street, a century old. Its big, round-arched windows in a long,
second-story row, are walled up, and two or three from time to time have
had smaller windows let into them again, with odd little latticed
peep-holes in their batten shutters. This had already been done when
Kristian Koppig first began to look at them from his solitary dormer
window.

All the features of the building lead me to guess that it is a remnant
of the old Spanish Barracks, whose extensive structure fell by
government sale into private hands a long time ago. At the end toward
the swamp a great, oriental-looking passage is left, with an arched
entrance, and a pair of ponderous wooden doors. You look at it, and
almost see Count O'Reilly's artillery come bumping and trundling out,
and dash around into the ancient Plaza to bang away at King St.
Charles's birthday.

I do not know who lives there now. You might stand about on the opposite
_banquette_ for weeks and never find out. I suppose it is a residence,
for it does not look like one. That is the rule in that region.

In the good old times of duels, and bagatelle-clubs, and theatre-balls,
and Cayetano's circus, Kristian Koppig rooming as described, there lived
in the portion of this house, partly overhanging the archway, a palish
handsome woman, by the name--or going by the name--of Madame John. You
would hardly have thought of her being "colored." Though fading, she was
still of very attractive countenance, fine, rather severe features,
nearly straight hair carefully kept, and that vivid black eye so
peculiar to her kind. Her smile, which came and went with her talk, was
sweet and exceedingly intelligent; and something told you, as you looked
at her, that she was one who had had to learn a great deal in this
troublesome life.

"But!"--the Creole lads in the street would say--"--her daughter!"
and there would be lifting of arms, wringing of fingers, rolling of
eyes, rounding of mouths, gaspings and clasping of hands. "So beautiful,
beautiful, beautiful! White?--white like a water lily! White--like a
magnolia!"

Applause would follow, and invocation of all the saints to witness.

And she could sing.

"Sing?" (disdainfully)--"if a mocking-bird can _sing_! Ha!"

They could not tell just how old she was; t