This is a prodigiously picturesque place, and I enjoy more than I can say watching the Arabs swarming up the streets and markets, stately and grand in their picturesqueness beyond any population that I know, and particularly instructive and valuable to an artist from the sculpturesque _definiteness_ of their forms. The Jewish women here are said (by Ford) to be prodigiously handsome. I have seen no Rebeccas amongst them yet. I have not yet opened my box, and shall at best do little or nothing; I have no time. Next week I shall be in Granada, from where I hope to have to acknowledge a letter dated in Kensington Park Gardens. Meanwhile I am, with best love to Lina and yourself,--Yours affectionately, FRED. GRANADA, _October 19, 1877_. MY DEAR PAPA,--To-morrow is my last day in Granada. On Sunday I turn my face Londonward, and my holiday will be pretty nearly at an end, as I have, from want of time, given up my original intention of seeing Valencia, Alicante, Tarragona, &c. &c. Travelling in Spain is so infinitely slower than I had remembered it, and so ideally inconvenient in regard to hours of starting and arriving, that my programme has altogether undergone considerable modifications. I reached this place a good week later than I expected, and I did not get your letter till some days later yet, owing, I suppose, to the difficulty experienced by the postal authorities in the art of reading. This will account to you for the time that will have elapsed between your receipt of my two epistles. I am truly sorry to hear that poor Lina is below par; tell her so, with my love. As you do not speak of yourself, I presume that you are in good form, and am glad to hear it. There is one passage in your letter which suggests to me a strong protest. I think it preposterous that the ambulant spinsters, or otherwise, with whom you foregather on your journeys, should expect _you_ to furnish them with photos of your "celebrated son." I like enthusiasm; but _genuine_ enthusiasm does not halt at a shilling, which is the sum for which my effigy is obtainable in the public market; _verb. sap._ I will not describe to you Toledo, Cordova, Seville, Granada, &c. (under which heads see Murray's guide-book). I have done so before (probably), and they have altered less than I, with the exception, perhaps, of Granada, or rather the Alhambra, which, alas! is changed indeed, thanks to the restoring mania, and is now all but brand new. I ought, perhaps, to remark that the changes in _me_ are not precisely in that direction. Taking a bird's-eye view of my holiday, I don't think I should call it altogether a success, though I have had many very delightful moments, and have seen