early enough, you may behold the family at its toilet, for there is very little privacy anywhere in Cuba, every act, from entry into life to its final exit, from baptism to burial, being serenely performed in the utmost publicity. The lower windows, overlooking the street, are protected by heavy iron bars, and behind these you may, in certain quarters of the town, see lively groups of Havanese Geishas, their faces thickly powdered with rice flour, their long black hair plaited, and their opulent charms displayed to liberal advantage--"sono donne che fano all'amore!" The frequent curious overhanging windows, with their iron bars, would give the place a prison-like appearance, were they not painted in the most brilliant colours--orange, scarlet, and pea-green. More frequently than not, the fragrance of the family dinner falls pleasantly on your olfactory nerve, and you may even catch a glimpse of the cook, a negress, invariably presiding over the charcoal stove in the kitchen, turban on head, a long calico skirt streaming behind her, and in her mouth the inevitable cigarette, without which no Cuban coloured lady can be happy. There is no West End, so to speak, in Havana, the mansions of the wealthy being scattered through every part of the city. Some of the better sort of houses are exceedingly handsome, but they are all built on one plan, in the classical style, with an inner courtyard, surrounded by handsome marble or stucco columns. I imagine them to be designed much on the same plan as the villas of ancient Rome. You first look into a fine hall--generally either built of white marble or else stuccoed to look like it. Here the family Victoria or old-fashioned Volante is usually stowed away. Here also stands, rather for ornament than use, a sedan-chair, which is, more often than not, richly painted and gilded. Beyond this hall is the Pateo, in the centre of which there is usually a garden rich in tropical vegetation, shading either a fountain or a large gilded aviary full of brilliant parrots and parrakeets. In some houses there is a picture or statue of the Virgin, or some Saint, with a lamp burning before it day and night. In the Pateo, the family assembles of an evening, the ladies in full dress; and as it is generally brilliantly illuminated, the pleasant domestic scene adds greatly to the gay appearance of the streets, which fill with loungers in the cool of the evening.