, dear--and none the less dear for being imaginative--reader!

Distant barking denotes that we are within earshot of our destination;
and anon a couple of Don Severiano's faithful dogs come bounding along
the road towards us.

'Hey, Esperules, old girl! What, and Tocolo too?' Don Severiano caresses
them in turn as each leaps to his saddle. A dozen more lie in ambush at
the gate which leads to the coffee grounds, and through which we are now
passing. The mayoral, with his wife and children, turn out to meet and
welcome us. Crowds of Africans pay us homage and grin with delight. We
halt in the patio, and a score of half-naked grooms assist us in
alighting, and watch and help us at our lightest movement. As it is
evening dusk when we arrive, and as we are exhausted with our day's
pilgrimage, we betake ourselves to our dormitories without a word. Here
we are served by stalwart domestics, who bathe our burning feet in
luke-warm water, and sponge our irritated bodies with diluted
aguardiente. A clean shirt of fine linen; a fresh suit of whity-brown
drill; a toy cup of black coffee; and we are refreshed and ready to do
justice to dinner; to the 'aijaco' of chicken and native vegetables; to
the 'bacalao' or stock-fish, with tomato sauce; to the boiled meat,
cabbage, 'chocho,' bacon, and 'garbanzos'; to the stewed goat, with
accompaniment of yams, baked bananas, pumpkin and Indian corn; to the
guava jellies and guanavana preserves mashed up with insipid creole
cheese; to the juicy mangoes cut up in slices in the midst of Catalan
wine and sugar; to the excellent black coffee, and home-made cigars.
These we discuss in the broad balcony without, where, seated on
leather-bottomed chairs, we pass the rest of the evening.

The second overseer, with his staff of field slaves, fills the yard
which faces us. The faithful vassals have ended their day's toil, and
are come to beg the evening blessing of their lord and master. Blacks of
both sexes and all ages, stand before us in a row; some with machete
reaping-knives under their arms, or bundles of maloja-fodder for the
stable supply; others with the empty baskets into which they have been
plucking the ripe coffee berry. Their evening costume consists of a
loose garment of coarse canvas. The women wear head-dresses of
gaily-coloured handkerchiefs twisted and tied in a peculiar fashion; the
men have broad-brimmed straw hats and imitation panamas. The second
overseer, with his inseparable