. With the exception of the president of the republic, his cabinet,
who wear scarfs of the Paraguayan colors--blue, white and red--and the
officiating priests, there is not a Paraguayan in the church. Lovers of
noise and of the excitement of festivals though they be, the people thus
protest mutely against a ceremony that exalts their conquerors and
recalls their own powerless condition.

The ball given by the Brazilian general was, as before stated, at the
house once occupied by Madame Lynch--Madame Elisa, as they call her in
Paraguay--where that functionary resided. The best society of the
capital, composed exclusively of the families of the higher officials,
attended, and what was curious was that most of the women present in
their ball-room attire, three years before, owing to the exigencies of
war, had little more than a brief garment wherewith to protect
themselves from the inclemencies of the weather. The dancing goes on in
the parlor of the establishment and under the verandah which surrounds
the courtyard. At the first glance, the parlor in its adornments
presents the appearance of a _salon_ of the Faubourg St. Germain, with
silken hangings vivid in color on the walls, gilded stucco-work on the
ceiling, and a brilliant carpet under foot. But on closer inspection all
these splendors are seen to be merely a stage-decoration, for the
effects--with the exception of the carpet--have been produced by some
skillful wandering artist with his paintbrush and an adequate supply of
gold-leaf. The illusion, however, is complete for a few minutes. The
women--among whom are some handsome representatives of Paraguayan
beauty--have wonderfully graceful manners. Their complexions are dark,
their eyes large and black, and their hair of the color of ebony. The
_decollete_ style prevails in the cut of the dresses, which are made
simply, and generally present the combination of white and black. The
dances are those of Europe, and as the women dance a smile parts their
lips.

This is the bright side of the picture of the feminine element at the
ball. The reverse of the medal is not so satisfactory, for at the door
of entrance, seated on chairs or standing along the wall, are collected
groups of old women with wrinkled faces and coarse gray hair negligently
tucked on the tops of their heads with combs. These elders, rolled up,
rather than wrapped, in shawls of various sombre hues, and who look on
listlessly as if in a daze, are the mo