The times., 1898-12-18
A Hook About snain

"a Corner of SPAIN" by Miriam Coles
Harris. author of ''Rutledge." is a series
of short essays on Malaga. its architect
ure, inhabitants and social customs. The
book is written entertainingly, in an in
| formal alf-conversational style, and
will prove fascinating to anyone who is
| interested in Spanish life. The author
has the power. not so common it
ought TO be in writers of books of travel,
| of making her reader see the places which
| she describes. One feels that her de-
| scription is impartial. and that the view
is not taken through the eyes of pref
udiced observer, but is substantially the
| view of any traveller sojourning in the
| quaint old Spanish city.
| 4 fairly good idea of the book is given
| by the chapter headings, some of which
are as follows: Life in a Convent, The
| Old Fortress. A Spanish Cure. Spanish
Limitations, A Migrating Family. Behind
| the Scenes in the Malaga Bull Ring, An
Andalusian Cook. Malaga's Manners, and
At the Seville Fair. All the characteristic
| features of life in Malaga are touched
| upon, and though the author evidently
does not approve of some of them, she
| is. on the whole. very charitably inclined.
To an American or English visitor some
of the Limitations" of life in Spain would
prove serious. For instance. there is the
matter of fuel. which is discussed as fol-
| lows:
| The poor buy charcoal from bags carried on the
backs OF donkeys. This is weighed out by the
| dealer in scales about the size OF those we use
| in the kitchen for measuring out flour and sugar
| In the better houses Of the midde-class there IS
| a sort of stove, without any chimney or pipe, OF
| course and in this there are little compartments,
| holding Il lump of charcoal under a hole on
| which a saucepan is placed. If you need Two
! saucepans. you light coal in two OF these COM
partments, and so on. The abiectly poor do not
| cook at all, but live fruits and bread and on
a sort of hot cake which they buy in the streets.
| Early in the morning it is interesting TO watch
| the stands of those who make what look like
| crullers while you wait, or nat cakes like
| country roads, you see the cooking done on the
stones before the door, and it smells very good,
| though / doubt if it would taste so.
| In January there are generally some bitter days.
| when the thermometer goes down to forty.two de-
| grees or thereabouts, and the poor halfnaIed
| people suffer greatly. Their windows are not
| glazed, and all the warmth they can get is from
| the Intellectual winter sun. When the sun goes
| down, therefore, they are insa bad way.
| have often seen young children in the streets
| of Malaga with bare feet and bare heads. and, 10
be exact, clothe0 only IN q tlin cotton Ifcch ana
| cotton waist under it, when furs and hannels
| W re a necessity 10 Ahglosaxons The
death rate is astonishiusiy3 low in the city, but
it is not account of the activity of the board
loaing about. .oh, we always have more or less
smallpox in Malaga" they always tell you non
chalantly.
The chapter called An Andaiusian
| Cook is pretty. tsuching little story
of the endeavor of a young peasant girl
to make promised thank-offering at a
| shrine outside the town. She had vowed
that if the life of a beloved child of the
family with whom She lived should be
| spared, during a severe Illness, she would
carry pound of olive oil to this shrine
before the end of Holy Week. The baby
Anita recovered, but the5poor maid found
no time in the midss of her multifar.ous
| duties to fulfill her vow. Holy Week
came, and still she was busy all day and
| part of the night. At last, after much
tribulation of soul, she managed to carry
out her purpose. The story of the latter
part of the Holy Week is sympathetieally
and skillfully told:
She could scarcely get away from her WORK
even to 60 out to her parish church on Holy
Thursday, to say a little prayer before the re-
pository, where, throned in flowers and Lighted
with myriad candles the Blessed Sacrament i.
kept till the morning of Good Friday. As te
going to seven churches and saying her prayers
before each repository, as other people did, that
alas! not for the likes of her She had !
dumb, deep-down feeling, however, that the goot
God knew, and that it would be all right. Or
her way back from her hurried prayer at the
church, procession passed which she watched
| for moment. But this only proved painful, fol
| 1t had begun to rain. and her pions Southern
1 soul was aaame with wrath that the image o
the Blessed Redeemer should be exposed to the
| storm.
'Thcy don't care about wetting his dear curis, .