There is one exception to the narrow streets, and that is the broad and imposing Avenida de Mayo, near the centre of the city. This street, with its wide pavements and rows of trees, lined on either side by hotels, fine stores and office buildings, reminds one of the famous avenues of Paris. The open-air cafés, which line the broad sidewalks of this avenue, only emphasize this resemblance and testify to the fact that the old-world spirit is still alive in Buenos Aires. At one end of the street is the Plaza de Mayo, at the far side of which is the government building in which are the administration offices; and at the other terminus, a mile away, is the Palace of Congress, which has just been completed after thirteen years of building, and at a cost of eight million dollars. With its great dome it gives a prospect very much like that of the Capitol at the end of Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington. The cross streets all begin and end at Calle Rivadavia, just one block from this avenue, for they have a different name on the two ends. One of the streets in the city is called Estados Unidos, which is the Spanish for United States. The Avenida Alvear, which leads out to Palermo, is another striking street. The mansions which line it are interspersed with gardens and plazas, and this broad avenue gains in beauty by this wealth of verdure and flowers. The people of this southern metropolis may put off until “to-morrow” many things, after the manner of the Spanish people, but they do not idle to-day. Everywhere it is work, work, work, and the people earn their bread by the actual sweat of the brow. That is, all except the wealthy _estancieros_, or plantation owners, who became wealthy by the marvellous rise in the value of their lands. Many men bought a square league of pampa land fifteen or twenty years ago for a few thousand dollars, and it is now worth fifty dollars an acre. This enables them to live in Buenos Aires in idleness and comparative luxury. Greater opportunities, another climate and the virgin soil have instilled a new life into bodies and brains. It is a mingling of the spirit of the old world and the new which shapes the daily life of this city. The term “effete,” so often applied to Latin nations, and the “proverbial laziness” of Spaniard and Italian, so often referred to by writers, does not apply here. From the shipping sections where boats, barges and tugs throng in endless procession, from the flats on the river where hundreds of acres have been reclaimed in recent years, to the business section and the wide tree-planted avenues where the electric cars rush out into the residence section, the traveller will observe nothing but movement and effort, unceasing work and activity. In fact, were it not for the difference in architecture, a warmer shade in the complexion of the people, the sonorous consonants of the Castilian tongue, and the fact that the passer-by who jostles you never fails to lift his hat and