The Press., 1897-08-19
BYWAYS OF SEVILLE.
THUMB NAIL SKETCHES OF A WITTY
 AND GRACIOUS PEOPLE.

The Lazy and Picturesque Life of the Am
 dalusians- Love Through Barred
 Windows-A Taberna Where the Dark
 CT Side of Life Is Displayed.
 Wandering home through the dark, winding byways, you pass cloaked fig ures, whispering at the iron bound win dows. They are the lovers of Seville, pelando la pava (plucking the turkey) as they call it. With the lattice slightly open, the fair Sevillana sits in her dark ened chamber talking in whispered tones to the gallant without. The old tolks, weary of the task of chaperonage,
 ftcr locking the daughter in a room barred like a prison cell, have gone to bed, and for hours, sometimes the en- tire night, the affianced lovers look through the grating into each others eyes and whisper the nothings of love. It would seem cold comfort to a north ern swain, but the Spaniards say the iron bars are necessary evil there in Spain In Spain there are life and color and picturesqueness everywhere, and you think the Spaniard was born to be Ln artists model.
 In the maze of tortuous streets about the market one sees something of the life of the people. There the white washed houses are outlined against the brilliant sky in rambling perspective, and the graceful tower of some parish church, it's brown walls moss grown, its bright tiles shining, rise sharp and clear into the blue above. Dark maidens with glossy hair and warm color in their cheeks gaze idly from the miradores above upon the countless people in the streets below.
 The cobbler hammers and stitches in his smoky little shop without window or door, glasses click in the bodega, sleek cows with mournful eyes and tinkling bells stand silently chewing their cuds in tho milk1nan's stalls. and the dainty feet of shaggy donkeys batter on the cobble stones as the patient lit tie beasts, beneath their panniers of straw or charcoal, thread their way through the crowd. You wander along, picking your way through the good na- tured assCmblage, until you reach some little plaza with its church, where beg gars sun themselves upon the fagstones, and the puestos, or booths of the street peddlers, with graceful, cOlOred avn ings are scattered picturesquely about the pavement. There the dazzling sun- light casts fantastic shadows on the yell low and blue walls of the houses, null ticolored pots or festcons of cotton prints hang in the diney shops, gallar- Of hn ct in groups or ogle the passing maidens, dogs snOoze i'll sunny spots and crowds of idlers cluster about some barrel or gan or blind guitarist. There is booth near by where a bronze skinned gypsy is cooking molletcs calentitos, sort of greasy flour cake fried ill oil, and a wine puesto with its earthen jars, and huge bottles of red and yellow wine, and there wages loiter to eat and drink.
 One can finger for hours i'll the streets of Seville, watching the people and talking with them, too, for the Anda- lusian of the lower classes is the best of fellows. There is a democratic freedom in his manner, at once respectful and cordial, which is unlike the obsequious- ness or boorishness of the common peo- pie of other countries. He is slow and even lazy, but he commands respect, and nowhere can one meet such civility and heartiness as is shown by the Andalu- sian peasant. But you must unbend and meet him half way. He does not like Saxon stiffness, and cordial word or the offer of cigarette will accomplish more than handful of silver.
 irN&0 of In people where aguardiente is sold at 8 cent glass, the habitues all greet you with a word of welcome, and the bar keeper serves his liquor with a courtli- ness which is Chesterfeldian. They are rough places, those common taverns. There is one ill particular, across the river in Triana, where the toughs of Se- ville--the matones, they are called gather to drink and quarrel. They say that every Sevillian who is spelling for a fight goes there, and many are the cutting affrays ill which nava1os are drawn. With mantas wrapped about the left arm, the duellists crouch and slow ly follow each other around, watching the opportunity for the fatal spring, just as they do in Carmen. This taberna of the bullies is low, dingy place, spanned by high beams blackened by ages of cigarettes and dirt. It is open to the street on two sides, and supporting the corner beams is an old Roman col umn which looks as though it may have been standing since the time of Trajan. The floor is of dirt, and in one corner are 8 low table and three or four cane seat ed chairs. There are dirty bottles on the shelves and coarse prints of bullfghters on the walls Behind the bar is the keeper of the resort, low browed ruff fan, with little weasel eyes, set close together and knife slash across his un- shaven cheek. He looks prince of cut threats, but even he has kindly greet ing and a civil word, as have has cus- toners who lean upon the bar. But the honest workman out for holiday with his best girl or the bourgeois and his friends picnicking in the environs un- der the shade of olive trees, are really more interesting. These true Andalu- sians will always welcome stranger, they will always share their sour wine and sweet cakes, and the bright eyed girls of the party will dance the grace ful Sevillana to the time of castanets, and if you speak Spanish you may chat with them all and feel when you leave that you have met real friends. There are no people so friendly and witty and gracious as the Andalusians. -Cosmo- politan.
 The Growth of Flowers.
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