the mere expression "a snob" is by no means to be understood.

That railway travelling in Spain calls for a great exercise of patience
from those accustomed to Flying Dutchmen and such-like expresses is
quite true; though, by the way, many of the lines are in French hands,
and served by French officials. It may safely be said, however, even at
the present day, that those who are always in a hurry would do well to
choose some other country for their holiday jaunt. A well-known English
engineer, of French extraction, trying to get some business through in
Madrid, once described himself as feeling "like a cat in hell, without
claws." Perhaps the ignorance of the language, which constituted his
clawless condition, was a fortunate circumstance for him. But that was a
good while ago, and Madrid moves more quickly now.

Another characteristic of the Spaniard which awakens the respect and
admiration of those who know enough of his past and present history to
be aware of it is his courage: not in the least resembling the
excitement and rush of mere conflict, nor the theatrical display of what
goes by the name of "glory" among some of his neighbours; but the cool
courage, the invincible determination which holds honour as the ideal to
be followed all the same whether or not any person beyond the actor will
know of it, and an unquestioning obedience to discipline, which call
forth the ungrudging admiration of Englishmen, proud as we are of such
national stories as that of our own _Little Revenge, The Wreck of the
"Birkenhead,"_ or of "plucky little Mafeking," amongst hundreds of
others. Spaniards are rich in such inspiring memories, reaching from the
earliest days of authentic history to the terrible episodes of the late
war with America. The story of Cervera's fleet at Santiago de Cuba is
one to make the heart of any nation throb with pride in the midst of
inevitable tears.