During the days that I amused myself by drawing my little memorials of the Valley of Yumori, and among other lovely things, the Cupid's tears kissed by the little humming-birds, I had laid some of those flowers upon the table beside me—that is to say, some of the small red blossoms, which had fallen—that I might examine at my leisure their form and veining. To my surprise, however, I observed that one after another of these blossoms disappeared from the table. I laid some fresh ones there, but it was not long before they too had vanished. I could not understand how it was. By chance, however, casting my eyes towards one of the walls of the room, I there, to my astonishment, beheld my flowers advancing in a long row up it to the very ceiling. Very, very small, light-coloured ants were dragging them up, and had made a regular line from my table up to the ceiling, where they disappeared. They were so small and light that I at first had not noticed them. One single ant dragged in this way up the wall a blossom which was twelve times larger than itself.
I was one evening one of the spectators of a great ball given by the free negroes of Matanzas for La Casa de Beneficienza in the city, to which the white public were invited by the black. The ball took place in the theatre, and the gazing public occupied the boxes. Mr. B. and my young and agreeable countryman Mr. F. accompanied me; and one of my unknown benefactors, who I believe was a Spaniard, hastened forward at the entrance to the theatre and paid the admission-fee for the foreign signora. And speaking of this, I may as well mention what I have here heard of the politeness of Spaniards to ladies which exceeds anything that I have experienced among other nations; even the chivalry of the Americans is not to be compared to it. It is true, at times it seems to be more than necessary, and it may be mere sham and hollowness; but there is nevertheless something beautiful and noble at the
