also, moving slowly along, with a grace and dignity of motion seldom or never seen in our cities; and gay fellows on fiery little horses, who dashed at a break-neck pace through the streets. It was a novel scene, and we had hardly taken in its more striking features, when Pedro stopped before a large arched gateway, or _portada_, as it is called here, and told us this was the “Casa del Señor Don Frederico.” He unlatched the small door within the larger, and entering, we found ourselves in a broad corridor, completely surrounding a court, in which were growing a number of orange, marañon, and other fruit trees, fragrant bushes, and clumps of flowers. On one side was the store, filled with bales and boxes, and in front of it were huge scales for weighing commodities; while the sala, dining, and private rooms occupied the remaining two sides of the court. In one corner of the corridor were two or three movable desks, where Don Frederico’s children were engaged in their afternoon lessons with their tutor, a pale, intellectual looking young man; and just beyond, reclining in a hammock, was the portly form of Don Frederico himself. Pedro approached him, hat in hand, and with profound reverence, announced us. Our host immediately rose, and in due course I delivered my letters, which were honored in a spirit of the most enlarged and liberal hospitality. A part of a spacious and commodious house immediately opposite, which was occupied by the children of Don Frederico and their governess, was at once ordered to be prepared for our accommodation, while a couple of carts were despatched to the shore for our luggage. Our reception was so warm and cordial, that I felt at once perfectly at home, and was delighted with the neatness and comfort of everything around us. Don Frederico was born in Jamaica, but had resided for thirty years in the country, where he had married, become a citizen, and accumulated a large fortune. Entertaining the respect and confidence of all parties, he had passed safely through all the troubles to which the country had been subjected. He seemed very little alarmed at the threatened attack on the city, and felt confident that the insurgents would ultimately be put down. Still, unless reinforcements speedily arrived from the government, he anticipated that trouble might ensue, and perhaps an assault be attempted, because Somoza was as daring as he was unscrupulous. But even then it was only necessary to barricade the doors, and every house became a fortress. He had gone through several revolutions, securely locked in, eating and sleeping as usual. When the affair was over, he opened the portada again, and things went on as before.