A DAY AT BUENOS AIRES. 171
of the barb horse, or the trophy-skulls of the Jivaros. Those who wore the skin nude wore it dark, and after a certain age the moustache was distinct and curly as in the majority of cornets. Probably the fame of the Portena's charms arose in old days when, as Wilcocke informs us, her shoes had silver heels ; when lace below the knees exposed the gold fringe of her tasselled garters, and when her bosom was veiled with trinkets, jewels, and crosses — the latter a toilette of which the late Mr. Gibson of Rome, statuary and man of taste, would greatly have approved.
The performance was not bad — considering that we are 2500 leagues from the two great head-quarters of the musical muse. The prima. Mad. Pasi, and the tenor Sr. Leruli, were the last days of Grisi and Mario. Mad. Josephine danced well, but the ballet is here utterly exotic — admired by neither man nor woman. The corps was of local growth — decidedly Gaucho, rigid as gutta percha, awkward as Tartars on foot ; wearing dresses made for others, and stockings of the brightest, liveliest rose, which " fleshings'^ made every leg look as if it had lately been flayed.
We retired to rest that night on board the Yi, with the pleasing sensation of having passed an agreeable as well as a profitable day.
