After sunset the revel begins in earnest. The negroes come out in their thousands, carrying lighted Chinese lanterns hanging from the top of bamboo poles. They shout and leap, and at every open space they dance to the sound of tom-toms and horns, their two chief musical instruments. All the theatres have a masked ball, that of the _Tacon_[14], which is the finest and largest theatre in the Southern Hemisphere, being exclusively devoted to the upper and middle classes. Here there is a great display of jewellery, the ladies, as in Italy, wearing the little loup mask and a domino, while most of the gentlemen are in evening dress. Of recent years, the ball at the _Tacon_ has greatly diminished in gaiety and local colour. The usual European dances fill the entire programme, and there is very little difference between this _veglione_ and any in Nice, Rome, or Naples. At the "Payrete," an immense theatre near the _Tacon_, matters are quite otherwise, and the coloured element largely prevails. An outlandish orchestra, consisting of the usual horns and tom-toms, bangs a wild, savage melody, with a kind of irregular rhythm, marking time, but without the faintest vestige of tune. The couples stand and jig, facing each other,--occasionally in a manner which is better left undefined, but usually with a solemnity defying all description. Now and again the male dancers utter a piercing whoop, and the couples forthwith change sides. It is impossible to conceive that fun or amusement can be extracted from such a monotonous performance. But that these good people do find enjoyment in it cannot be questioned, since they frequently continue performing this dance, which is known as the "Cubana," for many hours at a stretch, without moving a yard from the spot where they began. Another popular dance is the Canga, a sort of slow waltz, which, when danced by the class which dances in public in Havana, is the most indecent spectacle conceivable. Meanwhile the barbaric orchestra bangs ever, making noise enough to raise the dead--tom-tom whack, tom-tom wick, tom-tom whoop--_e da capo_. It ends by maddening the European ear, and the onlooker is forced to bolt or risk an epileptic seizure, or some such misfortune. This weird carnival ball, as seen from a box, is one of the most singular sights imaginable, but the spectator must make up his mind to evil smells as well as noise--all the perfumes of Araby would not sweeten the theatre. The scenes in the brightly lighted streets outside struck me as infinitely preferable. The crowded cafés, before which groups of smartly dressed young negro mandolinists play, and very creditably, selections from popular operas, in the confident hope of being treated to ices, or something stronger, have a distinct and original charm. Punctually at twelve o'clock on Shrove Tuesday the cannon boomed from Morro Castle, announcing that King Carnival had just expired. On the morrow, the pious crowded the churches to receive the penitential ashes.