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 572 ever tasted was served to me at the Dominica at Havana. It consisted of eggs, tomatos, maccaroni, and sardines. We also had different kinds of fish, fried and stewed. Like bread, fish is an expensive article of food in Havana. Fishing is a government monopoly, and no one is allowed to cast a net, or throw a line into the sea, but those to whom the privilege is farmed. The fishing-boats, which belong to the government, are very pretty craft. The hull is painted green, the deck white, and each has a deep well, into which the live fish are cast. This well is so constructed, that by means of a grating, fresh salt water—if I may so express myself—is constantly flowing in. This is an excellent contrivance for a tropical climate, where fish, if not kept alive, would be unfit to eat in a couple of hours. The dinner was on the same scale of abundance, and at this meal there was a great variety of unexceptionable vegetables,--not only those which are peculiar to the climate, but green peas, asparagus, French beans, vegetable marrow, and the finest coss lettuces I ever saw,—all grown in Cuba. There was the same quantity of claret allotted to each guest as at breakfast, and no person called for a stronger wine, although sherry and Madeira might be had if any chose to ask—and pay for it.

Mrs. Almy was an agreeable looking, ladylike person, well dressed, and in good taste, and presided at the head of her table in an easy, quiet, unobtrusive manner, readily entering into conversation when observations were addressed to her, and ceasing to talk when further discourse might be considered exclusive and particular. There was a gentle dignity and soft severity in her demeanour, which kept her guests in excellent order. Each person felt, without being told, that if he were guilty of any rudeness, or gave utterance to language unbecoming in a lady’s presence, an unmistakeable hint would immediately be given to him to withdraw—not only from the table, but from the hotel. I have already stated that about seventy guests, of both sexes, sat down to table. Of these some were Spanish and some were English; there were a few Germans, and one or two Russians, but the majority were Americans. There was an English Vice-consul, en route to some place or other, I forget where, who attracted much attention from those who sat near him. He had a round, red face, retroussé nose, little piggish eyes, and a white, soft, fat hand, on one finger of which figured a colossal ring, containing a rose diamond of unusual dimension. He was a thorough John Bull of the most taurine description—one of those Englishmen who carry with them wherever they go an atmosphere of London fog and Thames exhalation, who have Magna Char-ta, Bill of Rights, and Habeas Corpus written upon their foreheads; who have an independent elector, common council, select vestry air about them, and who, by their manners and conversation, lead foreigners to suppose (very erroneously) that Englishmen are the most conceited, dogmatical, dictatorial asses in the world. Although the thermometer was at 90°, he wore his blue vice consular coat buttoned up to the chin, for the purpose, I suppose, of developing his broad, manly chest, and in talking he flourished his white, fat hand, sparkling with the aforesaid rose diamond. He laughed obstreperously at his own jokes, and acknowledged those of others with a grin and a grunt. There was a tall, gaunt American, with a large, massive head, an expansive, well-developed forehead, a long cadaverous face, a quiet, dreamy eye, a slightly curved nose, and a projecting chin. Nature had originally intended him to be a gigantic, muscular man—that had been her design—but having constructed the frame, she suddenly struck work, and left him with the bones of a Goliath, but with scarcely the flesh of the son of Jesse. He looked like a Titan in a consumption, or a reformed Cyclops, who had abjured mutton and Greek flesh, and taken to vegetable diet. I found him to be a sensible, intelligent, gentlemanly man. He had been employed to lay down gas-pipes in Havana, and he now superintended the conduct of the works which had been established. There was another gentleman, also an American, who was known to the world, and admired by his countrymen, under the patronymic of Marsden. This individual was a lawyer. Whether he had arrived in that profession to the dignity of serjeant I do not know; but if he had, it would have been eclipsed by the much higher title which he had acquired in another—for he was a general. A sharp-featured, wrinkled, grey-haired man of about sixty, dressed in a loose brown jacket, very short trousers, and white lamb’s-wool socks, above which, when he sat with his legs crossed, his naked, hirsute, sturdy calf was visible. He could put on the brazen face of a Bobadil, and assume the braggadocio airs of a Pistol, whilst the twinkle of his little blue eye and the crafty expression of his mouth gave him the appearance of a Pecksniff. Every pocket that he had was stuffed with papers. There were little, yellow, dirty bits of paper, covered with large scrawling handwriting, in the deep side-pockets of his jacket; there were papers in his trowsers, and they were sticking, like the quills of a porcupine, out of his waistcoat. His hat was full of them. I once thought that I perceived some protruding from his shoes. At breakfast, at dinner, at tea,—at whatever time, and in whatever place, he was constantly looking through a bundle of these papers. He always appeared to be searching for a particular one, and he seemed never to find it. A heavy-looking fellow citizen—apparently from sixty-five to seventy years of age—always sat next to him. This gentleman appeared to be under his care and guardianship. Whatever General Marsden did, he did the like. He never partook of a dish without waiting to see what would be the choice of the General. If the General took a glass of wine, he would help himself to precisely the same quantity. If the General laughed he distorted his face into a lugubrious smile. If the General picked his teeth, out would come from his friend’s pocket a huge piece of timber, with which he performed a similar operation upon the Tuscan architecture of his own mouth. He wore a glossy, brown, juvenile wig, which contrasted oddly with his heavy, bushy eyebrows, and narrow corrugated forehead. He had a complaining, dissatisfied expression of countenance, and he examined every