those ancient Japanese bronzes used for the same purpose. In the library are many valuable manuscripts, mostly unpublished, but of interest to the historian and antiquarian. Almost worn out with sight-seeing, we stopped at a restaurant near by, and with our lunch had some native _cerveza negra_,—an unpleasant beer brewed from molasses. We had lost the cock-fight; but there was to be a bull-fight in the afternoon, to which we were strangely attracted, and we purchased seats under the roof at three reals, walking over to the Plaza de Toros at four o’clock. There was a fair audience—perhaps six or seven thousand—in the immense circular building or enclosure. As an overture we had an exhibition-drill. The soldiers wore red jackets, blue trousers, and white caps and cross-belts. The evolutions were well done to the bugle-notes, and the whole performance was to me much like a ballet,—simply a complicated series of preconcerted movements of the human body. A horseman clad in black, mounted on a superb white horse, then rode across the ring and formally asked leave of the Chief of the Corrida to open the games. The Chief tossed him a roll of colored paper, which he carried to the Amador del Toro and then backed gracefully out of the enclosure. Then came the Espada, Manuel Aguilar of Seville, with three Banderilleros and as many Picadores, followed by horses, mules, and mozos. There were only five “bulls,” of which three were oxen,—and they might all have been, for any fight they showed. The Picadores did their work, and the Primero Espada did some excellent dodging; but this did not satisfy us, so bloodthirsty had we become. At first we wanted to have a horse killed, and at last nothing short of the death of a man would satisfy us. But we were not to see anything of the kind; and after the bulls had trotted about the Plaza until half-past five, the show was over, and the unsatisfied audience dispersed. What would a Roman audience have done in the Flavian amphitheatre, had their wild-beast propensities been thus excited and disappointed? So far as the City of Guatemala is concerned, the bull-fight is growing unfashionable, and even with the populace such uninteresting shows cannot long attract. The Guatemaltecans should import some of the fashionable “Cribb Clubs” of our Northern cities, if they still wish to see human blood flow. At present there is more brutality in the sparring exhibitions of Boston than in the bull-fights of the Central American city. Our day was not yet ended; and as we crossed the Plaza in the evening, on returning from a call on a friend, we found the pavement crowded with people and dotted with little fires, over which various Indios were cooking doughnuts, fritters, and chocolate. The fritters were eaten with plenty of honey, and were very palatable.