aking, the use of the hands and
arms, and, perhaps it may be ungallant to add, of the eyes.

The Governor-General, Concha (whose title is, strictly,
Capitan-General), with his wife and two daughters, and two
aides-de-camp, is in the Vice-regal box, hung with red curtains, and
surmounted by the royal arms. I can form no opinion of him from his
physiognomy, as that is rather heavy, and gives not much indication.

Between the acts, I make, as all the gentlemen do, the promenade of the
house. All parts of it are respectable, and the regulations are good. I
notice one curious custom, which I am told prevails in all Spanish
theaters. As no women sit in the pit, and the boxes are often hired for
the season, and are high-priced, a portion of an upper tier is set apart
for those women and children who cannot or do not choose to get seats in
the boxes. Their quarter is separated from the rest of the house by
gates, and is attended by two or three old women, with a man to guard
the entrance. No men are admitted among them, and their parents,
brothers, cousins and beaux are allowed only to come to the door, and
must send in refreshments, and even a cup of water, by the hands of the
duenas.

Military, on duty, abound at the doors and in the passage-ways. The men
to-night are of the regiment of Guards, dressed in white. There are
enough of them to put down a small insurrection, on the spot. The
singers screamed well enough, and the play was a poor one, "Maria de
Rohan," but the prima donna, Gazzaniga, is a favorite, and the excitable
Cubans shout and scream, and throw bouquets, and jump on the benches,
and, at last, present her with a crown, wreathed with flowers, and with
jewels of value attached to it. Miss Adelaide Phillips is here, too, and
a favorite, and has been crowned, they say; but she does not sing
to-night.

VI.

HAVANA: A Social Sunday

To-morrow, I am to go, at eight o'clock either to the church of San
Domingo, to hear the military mass, or to the Jesuit church of Belen;
for the service of my own church is not publicly celebrated, even at the
British consulate, no service but the Roman Catholic being tolerated on
the island.

To-night there is a public mascara (mask ball) at the great hall, next
door to Le Grand's. My only window is by the side of the numerous
windows of the great hall, and all these are wide open; and I should be
stifled if I were to close mine. The music is loud and violent, from a
v