tch, where he remained all day
until coaxed down by the tinkle of a spoon in a toddy glass. Tomas
was out of breath, but not so much so that he could not ejaculate,
"Sus! Maria Santisima, Senorita!" in injured tones. Ciriaco, the cook,
lay down on the floor and laughed. Later I heard him and Ceferiana
agreeing that I was "_muy valiente_"

_October 25._ In spite of the agua finecada and the boiled towel,
Mrs. T----'s cook has developed cholera. Though I speak of it lightly,
I am truly sorry for them, for Mrs. T---- is exceedingly nervous,
and they have a little child to care for.

There is a slight diminution in the death rate, and we begin to hope
the worst is over.

_October 28._ The death rate is still decreasing. When will the
rain come?

To-day I discovered that all the elaborate boilings of dish cloths and
towels that have been carried out here since the epidemic began have
been a mere farce. Every day for a week I went out and superintended
the operation till I thought Ceferiana had mastered it. She had,
indeed, caught the details, but quite missed the idea. She found the
process of suspending the dish towel on a long stick till it was cool
enough to wring out, a tedious one, so she set her fertile brain to
work to find an expedient in the way of a bucket of cool well water,
into which she dropped them. Well water! All but pure cholera! We
had a hearty laugh over it at dinner to-night, though Mr. C----
looked grave. His official dignity sits heavily upon him.

Tomas dodges me when he passes. I find it impossible to restore
his confidence.

_November 2._ The rains have come, and whether they have anything to
do with it or not, the epidemic is subsiding. Two days ago, when the
first shower broke after an inconceivably sultry morning, the bearers
were passing with a couple of cholera patients on stretchers. They were
at first minded to set them down in the rain, but thought better of
it, and carried them into my lower hall. The shower lasted only a few
minutes, and then they went on their way, and Ciriaco and I descended
and sprinkled the floor all over with chloride of lime. While they
were there, I was nervously dreading the sounds of the great suffering
which accompanies cholera. But the patients were very quiet.

To-night at dinner Mr. C---- tasted his coffee and looked
suspicious. In my capacity of boarding-house keeper, I was instantly
alarmed and tasted mine. It seemed to have been made with _agua
fi