earthquake shocks that have from time to time visited the city is a mystery. Some experts have pointed to it as evidence that no very serious tremors can ever have taken place since it was built. But, however this may be, it is certainly an ingenious piece of construction, probably unique. A legend obtains currency amongst the better informed natives to the effect that before success attended the labours of the builders three failures befell them. On the last occasion the designer of the arch [Illustration: OLD HOUSES ON THE SEA WALL, PANAMA.] stood underneath it and proclaimed it to be a sound piece of construction if it did not fall upon him. It hardly needed the pious architect to point out that something was indeed seriously wrong with the work if it did fall and kill him. But silly legends abound in Latin America as well as in other parts of the globe. The church of St. Dominic must have had an imposing appearance in its early youth, for even the ravages of time and weather have failed to rob it of distinction, and the thick, tropical vegetation that now runs wild over its crumbling walls suggests forcibly that nature is more anxious to hide decay than man is to prevent it. The city has undergone many changes since its birth, and the regular symmetrical design that was in earlier times adhered to by its builders has been so modified and altered by subsequent designers that it is with difficulty that we can form an idea of its earlier aspect. Whenever fire and time have destroyed buildings, no effort has been made to rebuild in the substantial early manner. The old fortifications have nearly all disappeared, and the city has grown far beyond the limits which they set to its extension. Flimsy structures are now erected of timber framework covered with plaster, and treated with a coat of whitewash. The sham is rampant. How the shade of Ruskin would writhe in agony should it chance in its wanderings to visit Panama, where stucco masquerades as stone. A month or two at most of the varying climatic conditions of alternate dry and damp heat and the most pretentious mansions present a disreputable aspect. The colour schemes which are attempted by the decorators are novel and discordant. The half-formed, undeveloped, æsthetic sense of the Latin American is more amazing than the crudest efforts in art of the rudest savages. A striking instance of perverted colour sense was displayed by a prominent citizen during the memorable visit of President Roosevelt. In honour of the unique occasion, this enterprising gentleman caused the exterior of his house to be covered with a hideous magenta water-wash, ornamental parts being picked out in a canary yellow. The originality of this scheme attracted much attention; and although the few judicious grieved, the masses were delighted. CHAPTER VIII _The Panamanians_