exioned
damsel, whose chief attractions are a very perfect profile and an
intelligent brow.

'Till we meet again, Marianita!' he observes, when Marianita, who has a
pretty figure and small hands, passes our way.

'How bewitching you look to-night, my pretty Panchita!' he murmurs, as a
charming young girl, with fair hair and a pink and white complexion,
blushes and hurries on.

'Farewell, my fascinating Frasquita!' he ejaculates to an equally blonde
Creole.

Tunicu's fair hearers apparently do not disapprove of these al fresco
compliments, but occasionally acknowledge them by bestowing upon him a
momentary smile or a graceful inclination of the head, as they do with
scores of admirers, who, like Tunicu, venture to give voice to their
sentiments.

Whenever I question my loquacious friend about anybody in whom I may
feel interested, he positively overwhelms me with the most minute
particulars respecting his or her antecedents.

For example: Fulana de Tal is a visitor at Don Benigno's, and for some
mysterious reason Dona Mercedes has, on more than one occasion, offered
her pecuniary assistance.

'Do you know that lady?' I inquire, as Fulana de Tal seats herself
beside Dona Mercedes.

'Fulana de Tal!' exclaims Tunicu with a contemptuous chuckle; 'I should
rather think I do! Fulana de Tal, widow of the late Timothy de Tallo y
Gallo, the large importer of soap and composites, in Candela Street
number sixty-eight, corner of Vela Lane, opposite Snufa's the
ironmonger. Old Timothy de Tallo failed for forty thousand dollars four
years and ten months ago; ran away from his creditors and embarked for
France, where he died fourteen months after his arrival in Paris. His
widow, related to my uncle Benigno, was left destitute with three
children--two boys, and one girl named Fefita. But nobody starves in my
country! Fefita is engaged to Nicolas, son of Nicolas Neira, director of
the St. Michael copper mines. They say young Nicolas will have thirty
thousand dollars if he marries, and when his governor dies will be a
millionaire. Old Nicolas is awfully lucky--won a hundred thousand
dollars in the Havana lottery upon one occasion, and twenty thousand on
another. He has three coffee plantations and two sugar estates. One of
them is worked by no less than four hundred and fifty slaves. Car-amba!
you should see the procession of mules that arrives in town every day
from the Camino del Cobre: each beast laden with sacks weighing ne