St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1894-05-13

humble little wedding party, walking quickly,
almost running, to the sound of it's own
music.
In the square the little procession halted,
to dance among the dead leaves scattered
about by the wind. There we're about fifteen
in all, and we two comprised their whole au-
dience at first The bride, very young and
very pretty, was the only one who wore fash
ionable clothes. The tambourine played
wild, quick tune; the guests commenced an
extremely complicated dance, in which were
mingled jumps and cries; it was very old
dance, the tradition of which will soon be
lost.
Two or three young girls arrived on the
scene with jugs on their heads, to draw water
from the fountain. The bridegroom-who
had the face of a boy of eighteen-app
them and invited them to join in the dance.
Several children and idle fellows ran to see
the fun and a little crowd assembled, making
this poor peoples festival less sad, in the
dusk of the evening, with the setting of its
desolate frame.
And in the streets passing peasants halted
to watch them, stopping their heavy oxen
carts, which rolled over the wooden disks of
the pavements like ancient chariots
At five O'Clock our carriage was announced
as ready. 1t was species of cabriolet, with
an oiled canvas cover; two horses were har-
messed to pole, and a quantity OF bells were
strung around their necks.
ALI at once we found ourselves in the open
country, and soon it was dark night-a soft,
warm, summer-like night. An hour and a
halfs brisk ride in valleys, though sinuous
gorges, alongside of torrents which we could
not see, but the noise of whose waters was
plainly heard mingling with the merry jingle
Of our bells. A mild summer breeze blew
the dead leaves in our faces necessarily.
We finally drew up before the porch of
monumental fonda. We had arrived at our
destination. On the other side of the road
arose the immense Convent of Saint Ignatius,
an indistinct mass in the obscurity. No other
house was in the neighborhood; the fonda
and the convent; there is nothing else at
Loyola.
The fonda is very old, with staircases of
wrought iron, handsome enough to be in
palace. AS in all Spanish inns, ones nostrils
are assailed with the odor of garlic and ran
cid oil. The people understood neither
IIOACh IO1 SpctlilSu-uOGuluS DuC Cll0 IdQ-
guage of the country, Basque. At table there
was no one but an old priest and ourselves.
The fonda is almost holy place; there
are sanity images on the walls and on the
staircases notices, which forbid those who
ascend: "to swear or blaspheme."
When I opened my eyes in the morning
long rays of warm sunshine were filtering
through the window shutters. Ny room was
very large, whitewashed and almost empty;
images of saints and holy water founts hung
on the walls. Through the night I heard
sweet, silvery-toned bells ringing in the con-
vent, and the noise of a rushing torrent in
the distant fields. I was awakened by SER
wants voice, singing a Basque air, on the
staircase; an air of Yparraguire's, whose
statue had seen at Zumarraga, in the SOM
bre little square.
opened my windows to the sunlight It
was glorious October day. We're it not for
the red and gold tints of the trees and the
dead leaves on the ground, you would have
said we were in mid-August The site is
peculiar one and admirably chosen; a large
level plain (the only one to be found for
leagues around in this uneven Basque coun-
try, plain as fertile as a garden, traversed
by fresh stream of water and walled in,
almost overtopped by wild mountains. which
separate it from the rest Of the world. The
torrent sends forth faint sound in the
otherwise intense stiffness, and pastoral
calm pervades all this exquisite region.
The Convent of Saint Ignatius, the nest of
the Jesuits, is before me; enthroned sover-
.eign master, immense and superb in this
isolation. It forms an imposing grey and
sombre pile, Of an aspect special to itself, of
an astounding magnifcence in the midst of
this forgotten, humble and primitive country.
The chapel is in the centre Of the grand
facade, which extends on each side Of it like
two gigantic wings; the dome rises in grand
basilic-like proportion, the peristyle swells
out in generous rotundity, all in marble;
the porches and pillard in black marble
embellished with white marble the marble
steps which lead up to it are monumental,
ornamented with gold lions and statues.
And stretching in front Of It are parterres Of
chrysanthemqms, pathways laid out in old
fashioned style; no privacy, no cloister; then
the open country, the fields and peasants
passing by in the road.
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