costume whose design shows no trace
of European influence. Side by side with these picturesque visitors
was a barefooted Cuzco urchin clad in a striped jersey, cloth cap,
coat, and pants of English pattern.

One sees electric light wires fastened to the walls of houses
built four hundred years ago by the Spanish conquerors, walls which
themselves rest on massive stone foundations laid by Inca masons
centuries before the conquest. In one place telephone wires intercept
one's view of the beautiful stone facade of an old Jesuit Church, now
part of the University of Cuzco. It is built of reddish basalt from
the quarries of Huaccoto, near the twin peaks of Mt. Picol. Professor
Gregory says that this Huaccoto basalt has a softness and uniformity
of texture which renders it peculiarly suitable for that elaborately
carved stonework which was so greatly desired by ecclesiastical
architects of the sixteenth century. As compared with the dense
diorite which was extensively used by the Incas, the basalt weathers
far more rapidly. The rich red color of the weathered portions gives
to the Jesuit Church an atmosphere of extreme age. The courtyard of
the University, whose arcades echoed to the feet of learned Jesuit
teachers long before Yale was founded, has recently been paved with
concrete, transformed into a tennis court, and now echoes to the
shouts of students to whom Dr. Giesecke, the successful president, is
teaching the truth of the ancient axiom, "Mens sana in corpore sano."

Modern Cuzco is a city of about 20,000 people. Although it is the
political capital of the most important department in southern Peru,
it had in 1911 only one hospital--a semi-public, non-sectarian
organization on the west of the city, next door to the largest
cemetery. In fact, so far away is it from everything else and
so close to the cemetery that the funeral wreaths and the more
prominent monuments are almost the only interesting things which the
patients have to look at. The building has large courtyards and open
colonnades, which would afford ideal conditions for patients able to
take advantage of open-air treatment. At the time of Surgeon Erving's
visit he found the patients were all kept in wards whose windows
were small and practically always closed and shuttered, so that the
atmosphere was close and the light insufficient. One could hardly
imagine a stronger contrast than exists between such wards and those
to which we are accustomed in the U