It was a narrow, unpretending street, very
foreign in aspect; the houses tall and overhanging with balconies
filled with flowers; the lattice-shutters gaily painted, having
outside blinds of brilliantly striped stuffs.
The shop fronts were small, the wares common-place; the best show was
at the drapers, where they sold British calicoes and piece-goods in
flaunting colours, calculated to suit the local taste.
The street, both pavement and roadway, was crowded. In the former were
long strings of pack-horses bringing in straw and charcoal from
Spain; small stout donkeys laden with water-barrels; officers, some in
undress uniform, many more in plain clothes, riding long-tailed barbs;
occasionally a commissariat wagon drawn by a pair of sleek mules, or a
high-hooded _caleche_, with its driver seated on the shafts, cut
through the throng. Detachments of troops, too, marched by: recruits
returning from drill upon the North Front, armed parties, guards
coming off duty, and others going on fatigue--all these cleared the
street before them. On the pavement the crowd was as diverse as might
be expected, from the mixed population. Stately Moors rubbed elbows
with stalwart British soldiers; Barbary Jews, dejected in mien, but
with shrewd, cunning eyes, chaffered with the itinerant vendors of
freshly caught sardines, or the newly-picked fruit of the prickly
pear.
Pages:
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67