y day, full of the spirit and promise of
early spring. The fruit trees were in blossom, the green fields strewn
with wild flowers; flocks of grazing sheep were constantly in sight, and
men and women busy with field labor, the red petticoats and white caps
of the latter forming charming bits of color against the green
background. Sparkling water-courses, with here and there a fall giving
power to some rickety old stone mill, added variety to the shifting
scenery. On the not far-off hills were veritable castles, border
fortresses in ruins, whose gray, moss-covered towers had borne witness
to the conflicts of armor-clad warriors in the days of Castilian
knighthood and glory. What enchantment hangs about these rude
battlements, "rich with the spoils of time!" In looking back upon the
ancient days it is fortunate that the mellowing influence of time dims
the vision, and we see down the long vista of years as through a
softening twilight, else we should behold such harshness as would arouse
more of ire than of admiration. The olden time, like the landscape,
appears best in the purple distance.

The general aspect of the country, since we left Malaga in the extreme
south, had been rather disappointing, and the rural appearance on this
beautiful trip from Burgos to San Sebastian was therefore appreciated.
It should be called the garden of Spain, the well-watered plains and
valleys being spread with carpets of exquisite verdure. In the far
distance one could detect snow-clad mountains, which, in fact, were not
out of sight during the entire trip. Thousands of acres were covered by
the vine, already well advanced, and from the product of which comes the
sherry wine of commerce. The vineyards were interspersed with fields of
ripening grain. Wheat and wine! Or, as the Spaniards say: "The staff of
life and life itself." It was impossible not to feel a sense of elation
at the delightful scenery and the genial atmosphere on this early April
day. Nature seemed to be in her merriest mood, clothing everything in
poetical attire, rendering beautiful the little gray hamlets on the
hill-sides, dominated by square bell-towers, about which the red-tiled
cottages clustered. Outside of these were family groups sitting in the
warm sunshine, some sewing, some spinning, while children tumbled and
played in the inviting grass. We had seen nothing like this for many a
day--certainly not in Spain. Presently we came up to the lofty
snow-capped mountai