of Malta, with a goodly
number of passengers bound either east or west, is a harvest time for
the beggars, who know very well how to challenge the generosity of
strangers. They have made a careful study of the business; they have
elevated it, as De Quincey would say, to the dignity of a fine art. The
"Nix Mangare Stairs" of Valletta are the congregating place of an army
of mendicants of every species, men, women, and children, who exhibit
all manner of deformities, both real and artificial, as well as every
grade of dirt and squalor. In landing and making one's way up to the
main thoroughfare of the city, it is necessary to run the gauntlet of
this horde of poverty-stricken people. At the base of these "nothing to
eat stairs," the longshoremen and fishermen also congregate. It was just
here that Midshipman Easy and his companion procured the boat in which
they escaped after the "triangular duel." The evil odors permeating the
atmosphere in the vicinity are what might be expected from a people
reveling in garlic and eschewing soap. The daily food of the class one
sees in this section of the city is a slice of black bread and a raw
onion. The traveler's disgust and sympathy are both wrought upon to an
extreme degree, while amid all the clamor and whining appeals the
practiced eye pauses for a moment to note the picturesqueness of mingled
colors and of ragged humanity. The same recalls to mind the broad stone
steps leading up to the Capo di Monti from the Piazza di Spagna, in
Rome, where the artists' models assemble, clothed in a "congress" of
colors.

When it is remembered that the violence of the winds which sometimes
blow over these islands is such that in any other part of the world they
would be called hurricanes, the successful results achieved by the
Maltese gardeners and agriculturists appear more surprising. In order to
furnish protection from these fierce winds, high and solid stone walls
surround every grain, vegetable, and fruit field, all of which are
purposely made small in area. These yellow walls, wearisome, monotonous,
and unlovely to the eye, are often ten feet in height, not only
sheltering, but also hiding vegetation, so that when the island is first
observed from on shipboard, while a few miles away, it appears like a
huge stone quarry. Nothing could possibly seem more uninviting. Under
these circumstances, scarcely a tree or shrub of any sort is visible,
with the exception of an occasional slim and so