Peru is a fitting theatre for the great dramas which have been
played upon its wild, mountainous stage. The dark background of
its past is haunted by the shadows of the unknown race who built
its ruined cities and temples. Then come the beneficent, heavenly
Incas, and the mild, pastoral people over whom they rule. Last,
the cruel, treacherous Spaniard, slaughtering his friendly hosts
with one hand, while the other holds the Bible to their lips!




_THE OLD MAID'S VILLAGE._


I had been passing the summer on the banks of the Hudson--in
that charmed region which lies about what was once the home
of Diedrich Knickerbocker, with the enchanted ground of Sleepy
Hollow on the one hand, and the shrine of Sunnyside on the other.
In many happy morning walks and peaceful twilight rambles, I had
made the acquaintance of every winding lane, every shaded avenue,
every bosky dell and sunny glade for miles around. I had wandered
hither and thither, through all the golden season, and fairly
steeped my soul in the beauty, the languor, the poetry of the
"Irving country;" and now, filled, as it were, with rare wine,
content and happy, I was ready to return to the town, and take up
the matter-of-fact habit of life again.

But even on the last day of my sojourn, when my trunks stood
packed and corded, and the loins of my spirit were girt for