brides and gaze at them, and will not let them dance or leave their sides.
The construction of houses in Havanna is very peculiar, and one must get accustomed to them to like it. Everything is arranged so as to produce as much air and as much circulation as possible. Long galleries, with wide semi-circular arcades, open into the court (this house has them on four sides); in these galleries the whole household may be found, all busy and leading a sort of public life; dinner is eaten, visits are received, the lady of the house sews surrounded by her female slaves, or instructs her children; her domestics wash, or perform their other respective household duties, everything is done all in these open galleries, in which people and air circulate alike unimpeded. Within these galleries, which generally have marble floors, lie the sleeping rooms, separated from the gallery by Venetian shutters, the windows opening to the street and which in the upper story of the house are inclosed in the same manner. On the ground-floor, however, the windows have iron bars or grating, and behind this grating a curtain which is drawn at night. During the day no curtain is seen, and these grated windows, with their upright iron bars, give a dismal prison-like appearance to the story nearest to the street. In the more elegant houses, however, this window-grating is much ornamented, and frequently handsome ladies sitting, rocking themselves in rocking-chairs, and fanning themselves with splendid fans, may be seen behind the grating. Glass is never used. This construction of houses and arrangement of rooms gives free and general circulation to the air, and the air of Cuba cannot be other than welcome, but with it comes, here in Havanna, a vast deal of dust which is detrimental both to neatness and comfort.
If one goes into the city—and I have rambled about a great deal by myself in the evening—one gets glimpses, on all hands, through arcades and half dusky passages, into homes and amid households, the figures of which are
