open doors, and made no secret of their cozy domesticity, where they sat
and sewed or knitted and gossiped with their neighbors. Good wives and
mothers they doubtless were, but no doubt glad to be resting from the
summer pleasure of others. They had their beautiful names written up
over their doors, and were for the service of the lady visitors only;
there were other machines for gentlemen, and no doubt it was their
owners whom we saw gathering the fat seaweed thrown up by the storm into
the carts drawn by oxen over the sand. The oxen wore no yokes, but
pulled by a band drawn over their foreheads under their horns, and they
had the air of not liking the arrangement; though, for the matter of
that, I have never seen oxen that seemed to like being yoked.

When we came down to dinner we found the tables fairly full of belated
visitors, who presently proved tourists flying south like ourselves. The
dinner was good, as it is in nearly all Spanish hotels, where for an
average of three dollars a day you have an inclusive rate which you must
double for as good accommodation in our States. Let no one, I say, fear
the rank cookery so much imagined of the Peninsula, the oil, the pepper,
the kid and the like strange meats; as in all other countries of Europe,
even England itself, there is a local version, a general convention of
the French cuisine, quite as good in Spain as elsewhere, and oftener
superabundant than subabundant. The plain water is generally good, With
an American edge of freshness; but if you will not trust it (we had to
learn to trust it) there are agreeable Spanish mineral waters, as well
as the Apollinaris, the St. Galmier, and the Perrier of other
civilizations, to be had for the asking, at rather greater cost than the
good native wines, often included in the inclusive rate.

Besides this convention of the French cuisine there is almost everywhere
a convention of the English language in some one of the waiters. You