been “Go with God!” now, it was, “Go with the Virgin.” From this spot, the road continued to wind among the mountains, amid the same wild and desolate scenery, till we arrived at Diezma, a small village, with a venta attached to it. Here I again found my ham useful, and, with some eggs and chocolate, I had no reason to complain of my breakfast. The venta, however, seemed very miserable: they had to send into the village for the small quantity of bread I required, and for a little wine. But there was an excuse for the neglected state of this venta; the husband of its mistress had been stabbed in a quarrel only the day before, and had been buried that morning. After leaving Diezma, we entered a very singular looking country; it was covered with monticules, and pyramids of clay, sand, and gravel, from thirty to a hundred feet high, forming a perfect labyrinth, through which the road tortuously wound. This forenoon we had nothing to fear from robbers, for our party was numerous, consisting of about fifty mules and ten or twelve muleteers. I walked all the way along with the muleteers, entering into conversation with them, and from time to time assisting them in diminishing the rotundity of their wine-skins: a traveller must never refuse to put the wine-skin to his mouth; to refuse this offered courtesy, is looked upon as a serious affront. It requires some practice, however, to use the skin without wasting the wine, and deluging the bosom: and nothing but habit can teach this art. This singular labyrinth continued about two leagues, when we reached a small village, called Parillena, in the neighbourhood of which I observed many hovels excavated in the clay banks--the wretched retreats of the miserably poor. It did not surprise me to see no fewer than five records of murder in this neighbourhood. Between this village and Guadix, parts of the country are under tillage; and I saw some ploughs at work, and several persons sowing in the fields, although it was Sunday; but I never observed that, in the South of Spain, any distinction is made between Sundays and other days. It is not as in France, a day of recreation; every one plies his trade as usual. In the towns, all the shops are thronged; and in the country, those who wish to be industrious are industrious still.