The Alhambra is in a rapid state of similar | the iron gate. The furniture consists of a crazy transition whenever a tower falls to decay, it is bed, a table, and two or three chairs; a wooden seized upon by some tatterdemalion family, who become joint tenants with the bats and owls of its gilded halls, and hang their rags, those standards of poverty, out of its windows and loop-holes.

I have amused myself with remarking some of the motley characters that have thus usurped the ancient abode of royalty, and who seem as if placed here to give a farcical termination to the drama of human pride. One of these even bears the mockery of a royal title. It is a little old woman named Maria Antonia Sabonea, but who goes by the appellation of la Reyna Cuquina, or the cockle queen. She is small enough to be a fairy, and a fairy she may be for aught I can find out, for no one seems to know her origin. Her habitation is a kind of closet under the outer staircase of the palace, and she sits in the cool stone corridor plying her needle and singing from morning till night, with a ready joke for every one that passes, for though one of the poorest, she is one of the merriest little women breathing. Her great merit is a gift for story-telling; having, I verily believe, as many stories at her command as the inexhaustible Scheherezade of the thousand and one nights. Some of these I have heard her relate in the evening tertulias of Doña Antonia, at which she is occasionally an humble attendant.

That there must be some fairy gift about this mysterious little old woman, would appear from her extraordinary luck, since, notwithstanding her being very little, very ugly, and very poor, she has had, according to her own account, five husbands and a half; reckoning as a half, one, a young dragoon who died during courtship.

chest, containing his clothes, and the archives of his family; that is to say, a few papers concerning old law-suits which he cannot read; but the pride of his heart is a blazon of the arms of the family, brilliantly coloured and suspended in a frame against the wall, clearly demonstrating by its quarterings the various noble houses with which this poverty-stricken brood claim affinity.

As to Mateo himself, he has done his utmost to perpetuate his line; having a wife, and a numerous progeny who inhabit an almost dismantled hovel in the hamlet. How they manage to subsist, He only who sees into all mysteries can tell-the subsistence of a Spanish family of the kind is always a riddle to me; yet they do subsist, and, what is more, appear to enjoy their existence. The wife takes her holyday stroll in the Paseo of Granada, with a child in her arms, and half a dozen at her heels, and the eldest daughter, now verging into womanhood, dresses her hair with flowers, and dances gaily to the castanets.

There are two classes of people to whom life seems one long holyday, the very rich and the very poor; one because they need do nothing, the other because they have nothing to do; but there are none who understand the art of doing nothing and living upon nothing better than the poor classes of Spain. Climate does one half and temperament the rest. Give a Spaniard the shade in summer, and the sun in winter, a little bread, garlic, oil and garbanzos, an old brown cloak and a guitar, and let the world roll on as it pleases. Talk of poverty, with him it has no disgrace. It sits upon him with a grandioso style, like his ragged cloak. He is a hidalgo even when in rags.

The "Sons of the Alhambra" are an eminent illustration of this practical philosophy. As the Moors imagined that the celestial paradise hung over this favoured spot, so I am inclined, at times, to fancy that a gleam of the golden age still lingers about this ragged community. They possess nothing, they do nothing, they care for nothing. Yet, though apparently idle all the week, they are as observant of all holydays and saints' days as the most laborious artisan. They attend all fêtes and dancings in Granada and its vicinity, light bon-fires on the hills of St. John's eve, and have lately danced away the moonlight nights, on the harvest home of a small field of wheat within the "recincts of the fortress.

A rival personage to this little fairy queen is a portly old fellow with a bottle nose, who goes about in a rusty garb, with a cocked hat of oil skin and a red cockade. He is one of the legitimate sons of the Alhambra, and has lived here all his life, filling various offices; such as deputy Alguazil, sexton of the parochial church, and marker of a five's court established at the foot of one of the towers. He is as poor as a rat, but as proud as he is ragged, boasting of his descent from the illustrious house of Aguilar, from which sprang Gonsalvo of Cordova, the Grand captain. Nay, he actually bears the name of Alonzo de Aguilar, so renowned in the history of the conquest, though the graceless wags of the fortress have given him the title of el Padre Santo, or the Holy Father, the usual appellation of the pope, which I had thought too sacred in the eyes Before concluding these remarks I must mention of true catholics to be thus ludicrously applied. It one of the amusements of the place which has paris a whimsical caprice of fortune, to present in the ticularly struck me. I had repeatedly observed a long, grotesque person of this tatterdemalion a namesake lean fellow perched on the top of one of the towers and descendant of the proud Alonzo de Aguilar, the manoeuvring two or three fishing rods, as though he mirror of Andalusian chivalry, leading an almost was angling for the stars. I was for some time permendicant existence about this once haughty for- plexed by the evolutions of this aerial fisherman, and tress, which his ancestor aided to reduce; yet such my perplexity increased on observing others em. might have been the lot of the descendants of Aga-ployed in like manner, on different parts of the bat mnon and Achilles, had they lingered about the uins of Troy.

Of this motley community I find the family of my gossiping squire Mateo Ximenes to form, from their Dubers at least, a very important part. His boast of being a son of the Alhambra is not unfounded. This family has inhabited the fortress ever since the time of the conquest, handing down a hereditary poverty from father to son, not one of them having ever been known to be worth a marevedi. His father, by trade a riband weaver, and who succeeded the historical tailor as the head of the family, is now near seventy years of age, and lives in a hovel of reeds and plaster, built by his own hands, just above

tlements and bastions; it was not until I consulte Mateo Ximenes that I solved the mystery.

It seems that the pure and airy situation of this fortress has rendered it, like the castle of Macbeth, a prolific breeding-place for swallows and martlets who sport about its towers in myriads, with the holyday glee of urchins just let loose from school. To entrap these birds in their giddy circlings, with hooks baited with flies, is one of the favourite amusements of the ragged "Sons of the Alhambra," who, with the good-for-nothing ingenuity of arrant idlers, have thus invented the art of angling in the sky.

THE BALCONY.

flowers; but her heart evidently revolted at this mockery of a spiritual union, and yearned after its earthly loves. A tall stera-looking man walked near her in the procession; it was evidently the tyrannical IN the Hall of Ambassadors, at the central win- father, who, from some bigcted or sordid motive, dow, there is a balcony of which I have already made had compelled this sacrifice. Amidst the crowd was mention. It projects like a cage from the face of a dark, handsome youth, in Andalusian garb, who the tower, high in mid-air, above the tops of the seemed to fix on her an eye of agony. It was doubt trees that grow on the steep hill-side. It answers less the secret lover from whom she was for ever to me as a kind of observatory, where I often take my be separated. My indignation rose as I noted the seat to consider, not merely the heavens above, but malignant exultation painted in the countenances of the "earth beneath." Beside the magnificent prosthe attendant monks and friars. The procession pect which it commands, of mountain, valley, and arrived at the chapel of the convent; the sun Vega, there is a busy little scene of human life laid gleamed for the last time upon the chaplet of the open to inspection immediately below. At the foot poor novice as she crossed the fatal threshold and of the hill is an alameda or public walk, which, disappeared from sight. The throng poured in with though not so fashionable as the more modern and cowl and cross and minstrelsy. The lover paused splendid paseo of the Xenil, still boasts a varied and for a moment at the door; I could understand the picturesque concourse, especially on holydays and tumult of his feelings, but he mastered them and Sundays. Hither resort the small gentry of the entered. There was a long interval-I pictured to suburbs, together with priests and friars who walk myself the scene passing within.--The poor novice for appetite and digestion; majos and majas, the despoiled of her transient finery-clothed in the conbeaux and belles of the lower classes in their Anda-ventual garb; the bridal chaplet taken from her lusian dresses; swaggering contrabandistas, and brow; her beautiful head shorn of its long silken sometimes half-muffled and mysterious loungers of tresses-I heard her murmur the irrevocable vow—I the higher ranks, on some silent assignation. saw her extended on her bier; the death pall spread It is a moving picture of Spanish life which I de- over; the funeral service performed that proclaimed light to study; and as the naturalist has his micro-her dead to the world; her sighs were drowned in scope to assist him in his curious investigations, so I the wailing anthem of the nuns and the sepulchral have a small pocket telescope which brings the tones of the organ-the father looked, unmoved, countenances of the motley groupes so close as al- without a tear-the lover-no-my fancy refused to most at times to make me think I can divine their portray the anguish of the lover-there the picture conversation by the play and expression of their remained a blank. The ceremony was over: the features. I am thus, in a manner, an invisible ob- crowd again issued forth to behold the day and server, and without quitting my solitude, can throw mingle in the joyous stir of life-but the victim with myself in an instant into the midst of society-a rare her bridal chaplet was no longer there-the door of advantage to one of somewhat shy and quiet habits. the convent closed that secured her from the world Then there is a considerable suburb lying below for ever. I saw the father and the lover issue forth the Alhambra, filling the narrow gorge of the valley, and extending up the opposite hill of the Albaycin. Many of the houses are built in the Moorish style, round patios or courts cooled by fountains and open to the sky; and as the inhabitants pass much of their time in these courts and on the terraced roofs during the summer season, it follows that many a glance at their domestic life may be obtained by an aerial spectator like myself, who can look down on them from the clouds.

they were in earnest conversation—the young man was violent in his gestures, when the wall of a house intervened and shut them from my sight.

That evening I noticed a solitary light twinkling from a remote lattice of the convent. There, said L the unhappy novice sits weeping in her cell, while her lover paces the street below in unavailing anguish.

--The officious Mateo interrupted my meditations and destroyed, in an instant, the cobweb tissue of my fancy. With his usual zeal he had gathered facts I enjoy, in some degree, the advantages of the concerning the scene that had interested me. The student in the famous old Spanish story, who beheld he: oine of my romance was neither young nor handall Madrid unroofed for his inspection; and ny gus-some-she had no love-she had entered the consipping squire Mateo Ximenes, officiates occasionally as my Asmodeus, to give me anecdotes of the differmansions and their inhabitants.

i prefer, however, to form conjectural histories for myself; and thus can sit up aloft for hours, weaving from casual incidents and indications that pass under my eye, the whole tissue of schemes, intrigues and occupations, carrying on by certain of the busy mortals below us. There is scarce a pretty face or striking figure that I daily see, about which I have not thus gradually framed a dramatic story; though some of my characters will occasionally act in direct opposition to the part assigned them, and disconcert my whole drama.'

vent of her own free will, as a respectable asylum, and was one of the cheerfulest residents within its walls!

I felt at first half vexed with the nun for being thus happy in her cell, in contradiction to all the rules of romance; but diverted my spleen by watching, for a day or two, the pretty coquetries of a dark-eyed brunette, who, from the covert of a balcony shrouded with flowering shrubs and a silken awning, was carrying on a mysterious correspondence with a handsome, dark, well-whiskered cavalier, in the street beneath her window. Sometimes I saw him, at an early hour, stealing forth, wrapped to the eyes in a mantle. Sometimes he loitered at the corner, A few days since as I was reconnoitring with my in various disguises, apparently waiting for a private glass the streets of the Albaycin, I beheld the pro- signal to slip into the bower. Then there was a cession of a novice about to take the veil; and re- tinkling of a guitar at night, and a lantern shifted marked various circumstances that excited the from place to place in the balcony. I imagined strongest sympathy in the fate of the youthful being another romantic intrigue like that of Almaviva, but thus about to be consigned to a living tomb. I as-was again disconcerted in all my suppositions by certained, to my satisfaction, that she was beautiful; and, by the paleness of her cheek, that she was a victim, rather than a votary. She was arrayed in bridal garments, and crcked with a chaplet of white

being informed that the supposed lover was the husband of the lady, and a noted contrabandista . and that all his mysterious signs and movements had doubtless some smuggling scheme in view.

Scarce had the gray dawn streaked the sky and the earliest cock crowed from the cottages of the hill-side, when the suburbs gave sign of reviving anination; for the fresh hours of dawning are precious in the summer season in a suitry climate. All are anxious to get the start of the sun in the business of the day. The muleteer drives forth his loaded train for the journey; the traveller slings his carbine behind his saddle and mounts his steed at the gate of the hostel. The brown peasant urges his loitering donkeys, laden with panniers of sunny fruit and fresh dewy vegetables; for already the thrifty housewives are hastening to the market.

I was seated one evening in the balcony enjoy ing the light breeze that came rustling along the side of the hill among the tree-tops, when my humble historiographer, Mateo, who was at my elbow, pointed out a spacious house in an obscure street of the Albaycin, about which he related, as nearly as I can recollect, the following anecdote :

THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON.

There was once upon a time a poor mason, or bricklayer in Granada, who kept all the saints' days The sun is up and sparkles along the valley, and holydays, and saint Monday into the bargain, topping the transparent foliage of the groves. The and yet, with all his devotion, he grew poorer and matin bells resound melodiously through the pure poorer, and could scarcely earn bread for his numerbright air, announcing the hour of devotion. The ous family. One night he was roused from his first muleteer halts his burdened animals before the sleep by a knocking at his door. He opened it chapel, thrusts his staff through his belt behind, and and beheld before him a tall, meagre, cadaverousenters with hat in hand, smoothing his coal black looking priest. "Hark ye, honest friend," said the hair, to hear a mass and put up a prayer for a pros- stranger, "I have observed that you are a good perous wayfaring across the Sierra. Christian, and one to be trusted; will you undertake a job this very night?'

And now steals forth with fairy foot the gentle Señora, in trim busquina; with restless fan in hand and dark eye flashing from beneath her gracefully folded mantilla. She seeks some well frequented church to offer up her orisons; but the nicely adjusted dress; the dainty shoe and cobweb stocking; the raven tresses scrupulously braided, the fresh plucked rose that gleams among them like a gem, show that earth divides with heaven the empire of her thoughts.

As the morning advances, the din of labour augments on every side; the streets are thronged with man and steed, and beast of burden; the universal movement produces a hum and murmur like the surges of the ocean. As the sun ascends to his meridian the hum and bustle gradually decline; at the height of noon there is a pause; the panting city sinks into lassitude, and for several hours there is a general repose. The windows are closed; the curtains drawn; the inhabitants retired into the coolest recesses of their mansions. The fullfed monk snores in his dormitory. The brawny porter lies stretched on the pavement beside his burden. The peasant and the labourer sleep beneath the trees of the Alameda, lulled by the sultry chirping of the locust. The streets are deserted except by the water carrier, who refreshes the ear by proclaiming the merits of his sparkling beverage,"Colder than mountain snow.'

As the sun declines there is again a gradual reviving, and when the vesper bell rings out his sinking knell, all nature seems to rejoice that the tyrant of the day has fallen.

Now begins the bustle of enjoyment. The citizens pour forth to breathe the evening air, and revel away the brief twilight in the walks and gardens of the Darro and the Xenil.

With all my heart, Señor Padre, on condition that I am paid accordingly."

"That you shall be, but you must suffer yourself to be blindfolded."

To this the mason made no objection; so being hoodwinked, he was led by the priest through various rough lanes and winding passages until they stopped before the portal of a house. The priest then applied a key, turned a creaking lock and opened what sounded like a ponderous door. They entered, the door was closed and bolted, and the mason was conducted through an echoing corridor and spacious hall, to an interior part of the building. Here the bandage was removed from his eyes, and he found himself in a patio, or com, dimly lighted by a single lamp.

In the centre was a dry basin of an old Moorish fountain, under which the priest requested him to form a small vault, bricks and mortar being at hand for the purpose. He accordingly worked all night, but without finishing the job. Just before day-break the priest put a piece of gold into his hand, and having again blindfolded him, conducted him back to his dwelling.

"Are you willing," said he, "to return and complete your work?

Gladly, Señor Padre, provided I am as well

paid."

He did so, and the vault was completed. "Now," said the priest, "you must help me to bring forth the bodies that are to be buried in this vault."

their tomb. The vault was then closed, the pavement replaced and all traces of the work obliterated.

The poor mason's hair rose on his head at these words; he followed the priest with trembling steps, into a retired chamber of the mansion, expecting As the night closes, the motley scene assumes to behold some ghastly spectacle of death, but was new features. Light after light gradually twinkles relieved, on perceiving three or four portly jars forth; here a taper from a balconied window; standing in one corner. They were evidently full of there a votive lamp before the image of a saint. money, and it was with great labour that he and the Thus by degrees the city emerges from the per-priest carried them forth and consigned them to vading gloom, and sparkles with scattered lights like the starry firmament. Now break forth from court, and garden, and street, and lane, the tinkling of innumerable guitars and the clicking of castanets, blending at this lofty height, in a faint and general concert. Enjoy the moment," is the creed of the gay and amorous Andalusian, and at no time does he practise it more zealously than in the balmy nights of summer, wooing his mistress with the dance, the love ditty and the passionate serenade.

The mason was again hoodwinked and led forth by a route different from that by which he had come. After they had wandered for a long time through a perplexed maze of lanes and alleys, they halted. The priest then put two pieces of gold into his hand. "Wait here," said he, "until you hear the cathedral bell toll for matins. If you presume to uncover your eyes before that time, evil will befall you." So say. ing he departed.