at I knew in years
gone by, filled also with flowers, but with hollyhocks and jasmine; the
breeze carried the sweet scent of the honeysuckle to my nostrils, and I
looked at the green lawns, with the broad, straight lines of the
grass-mower. The low of cattle reached my ears, and wandering to the
fence I looked into the fields beyond; yellow cows grazed idly or lay
still chewing the cud; they stared at me with listless, sleepy eyes.

But I glanced up and saw a flock of wild geese flying northwards in long
lines that met, making two sides of a huge triangle; they flew quickly
in the cloudless sky, far above me, and presently were lost to view.
About me was the tall box-wood of the southern garden, and tropical
plants with rich flowers of yellow and red and purple. A dark fir-tree
stood out, ragged and uneven, like a spirit of the North, erect as a
life without reproach; but the foliage of the palms hung down with a
sad, adorable grace.

XIII

[Sidenote: Calle de las Sierpes]

In Seville the Andalusian character thrives in its finest flower; and
nowhere can it be more conveniently studied than in the narrow, sinuous,
crowded thoroughfare which is the oddest street in Europe. The Calle de
las Sierpes is merely a pavement, hardly broader than that of
Piccadilly, without a carriage-way. The houses on either side are very
irregular; some are tall, four-storeyed, others quite tiny; some are
well kept and freshly painted, others dilapidated. It is one of the
curiosities of Seville that there is no particularly fashionable
quarter; and, as though some moralising ruler had wished to place before
his people a continual reminder of the uncertainty of human greatness,
by the side of a magnificent palace you will find a hovel.

At no hour of the day does the Calle de las Sierpes lack animation, but
to see it at its best you must go towards evening, at seven o'clock, for
then there is scarcely room to move. Fine gentlemen stand at the club
doors or sit within, looking out of the huge windows; the merchants and
the students, smoking cigarettes, saunter, wrapped magnificently in
their capos. Cigarette-girls pass with roving eyes; they suffer from no
false modesty and smile with pleasure when a compliment reaches their
ears. Admirers do not speak in too low a tone and the fair Sevillan is
never hard of hearing.

Newspaper boys with shrill cries announce evening editions: '_Porvenir!_
_Noticiero!_' Vendors of lottery-tickets