Smoking is a universal habit amongst the women in the market-place, and when the thick black rolls of tobacco leaf are laid aside, mouths are generally closed over “bombillas,” through which they suck the steaming “yerba.” Vendors of the beautiful native lace wander up and down, carrying over their arms baskets filled with a large assortment of the delicate handiwork. The visitor is quickly singled out for attention, and invited to inspect the goods, and on his displaying the slightest curiosity is importuned to accompany the dame to one of the shops which surround the market square, where, without “by your leave” to its owner, the goods are spread out upon a table or counter, and a sale is sure to be effected. The proprietor of the shop looks calmly on with apparently no interest in the business, but it is more than likely that some understanding with the itinerant vendor exists, and that when the purchaser has departed the shopkeeper will get a commission for the use of his premises. The lace is very handsome, and although small pieces can be purchased for about half a sovereign, the larger articles, with more intricate workmanship, cost as much as thirty and forty pounds. One small basket, the contents of which I inspected, must have contained a stock worth two or three hundred pounds, if the price asked for the various examples was realised by the merry, middle-aged lady who hawked it round the square. [Illustration: A STREET IN ASUNCION.] The Plaza is surrounded by houses of a single story, which have mostly been converted into shops. The high pavement in front of these, reached by steps, is covered by deeply projecting tile-covered eaves forming a kind of verandah, under which groups of women sit amidst their piled-up wares, indolently smoking, expectorating, chattering, and laughing. Few market-places in the Old or New World have more distinctly unique characteristics than this of Asuncion, none that I have ever seen are so completely in the hands of the fair sex or so free from the intrusion of men.