_Castrizan_, and that the chapel there is dedicated to _Nuestra Señoro de los Nieves_. Perhaps the Sotomayor of the Middle Ages who has left the most vivid traditions in the minds of the people is Don Pedro, nicknamed Madruga, of whose doings the cottagers in the valley below have many strange legends. There are three distinct periods exemplified in the architecture of Castillo Mos: first, the old keep, with its massive walls, which forms the kernel of the building; second, the outer walls and fortifications built by Don Diego in the sixteenth century; and, lastly, the modern work done in the lifetime of the present marquis, who has succeeded in turning an abandoned ruin into one of the most beautiful and romantic of all the summer residences I have ever seen. The grounds are delicious with their fine old chestnuts hoary with age, their waterfalls, lawns, and flower-beds, while the keep over the entrance in the outer wall is now used as the library, and its walls are covered with bookshelves. The grass plot between the castle and the wall has many orange trees, and I saw fine large oranges lying about on the grass that no one had thought it worth their while to touch, because they were of the bitter kind, only good for preserving! and almost hidden among the long grass was a deep granite well approached by a winding stone stair covered with ferns and moss. The chain bridge over the remains of the old moat, the fine old trees, the bronze bust of the celebrated painter Castro Placentia (who painted the “San Antonio” in the chapel), sculptured by Mariano Bellini at Rome in 1891. A stream of pure water gushes from the hillside and flows near the shady old chestnut trees [Illustration: CASTILLO MOS, NOW THE SUMMER RESIDENCE OF THE MARQUIS DE LA VEGA ARMIJO, PONTEVEDRA] whose huge moss-covered trunks must be at least two hundred years old. Here and there the ground was thickly carpeted with camellia blossoms. In hot weather the family dines out of doors in the shade, at a table consisting of one solid piece of wood, brought from America, and which must have been sawn from the trunk of a tree at least twelve feet in diameter. It was two o’clock when we returned to our conveyance, and as we had brought our lunch with us, we ate it in the carriage, and were thus able to avoid a break in our homeward journey. At 4 p.m. we were once more in our comfortable hotel in Pontevedra, after a delightful excursion, which we would not have missed for a great deal.