striking peculiarity of the town house in Cuba, is the great care
taken to render it safe against assault. Every man's house is literally
his castle here, each accessible window being barricaded with iron
bars, while large massive folding doors secure the entrance to the
house, being bullet proof and of immense strength. No carpets are seen
here, and from the neighboring Isle of Pines, which lies off the
southern shore of Cuba, a thick slate is found, also marble and jasper
of various colors, which are cut in squares, and form the general
material for floors in the dwelling-houses. The heat of the climate
renders carpets, or even wooden floors, quite insupportable, and they
are very rarely to be found.

We have said that the Creole ladies never stir abroad except in the
national volante, and whatever their domestic habits may be, they are
certainly, in this respect, good _house-keepers_. A Cuban belle could
never, we fancy, be made to understand the pleasures of that most
profitless of all employments, spinning street-yarn. While our ladies
are busily engaged in sweeping the sidewalks of Chestnut-street and
Broadway with their silk flounces, she wisely leaves that business to
the gangs of criminals who perform the office with their limbs chained,
and a ball attached to preserve their equilibrium. It is perhaps in part
owing to these habits that the feet of the Cuban senorita are such a
marvel of smallness and delicacy, seemingly made rather for ornament
than for use. She knows the charm of the _petit pied bien chausse_ that
delights the Parisian, and accordingly, as you catch a glimpse of it, as
she steps into the volante, you perceive that it is daintily shod in a
French slipper, the sole of which is scarcely more substantial in
appearance than writing paper.[21]

The feet of the Havana ladies are made for ornament and for dancing.
Though with a roundness of figure that leaves nothing to be desired in
symmetry of form, yet they are light as a sylph, clad in muslin and
lace, so languid and light that it would seem as if a breeze might waft
them away like a summer cloud. They are passionately fond of dancing,
and tax the endurance of the gentlemen in their heroic worship of
Terpsichore. Inspired by the thrilling strains of those Cuban airs,
which are at once so sweet and brilliant, they glide or whirl through
the mazes of the dance hour after hour, until daylight breaks upon the
scene of fairy revel. Then, "exhausted bu