upon as one of the family, and the Saint’s procession raiment figures in the washing list; the wake at a village funeral, with the frequent toast, “to the glory of the dead,” _á la buena gloria del defunto_; tía Nisca, going her long homeward journey on foot after bidding farewell to her son on a ship bound for “the Indies,” and reproaching the unfertile soil that causes its sons to emigrate, though there is a song that men who go to the Indies in order to get rich would find the Indies at home, were they but willing to work:-- “A las Indias van los hombres A las Indias por ganar, Las Indias aquí las tienen Si quisieran trabajar;” and especially the noble figure of tío Tremontorio (the first and foremost of Pereda’s long line of masterly portraits in humble life, and the last of that race of hardy fishermen who, with the Basques, rivalled English whalers in the North Seas and made treaties with English kings during the Middle Ages), net-making, or eating his bread and raw _bacalao_ on his balcony in the squalid _Calle Alta_, or consoling the wives and mothers of fishermen on the _Muelle Anaos_ (in “La Leva”), and dying cheerfully (in “El fin de una raza”), after many hours of battling with the waves, glad to die quietly in his house, although he had nearly perished in the storm owing to his unwillingness to lose an _escapulario_ of the _Vírgen del Carmen_. “We are all sailors of that further sea,” he says, in his rough language, as he lies dying, “all bound for the same port. If the devil does not block it against us, I to-morrow and you another day will cast anchor there.” “Suum cuique” is the longest and not the least excellent of these _Escenas_. A poor _hidalgo_ of the mountain, Don Silvestre Seturas, visits a powerful friend at Madrid, and is speedily disillusioned of the capital and only court. His friend in turn accompanies him to his ancestral country-house, and is delighted at first with the country and its idyllic peace. But the _rat de ville_ begins to discover, after some months, that the country has neither peace nor poetry--“Barbarus híc ego sum quia non intelligor ulli”--and returns to Madrid. Several incidents contribute to his change of opinion, incidents which reveal the character of the peasants and illustrate the fact that Pereda, while he makes us love the peasants of the _Montaña_, is never blind to their faults and weaknesses. The rich _madrileño_ had decided to give a clock for the tower of the village church. But distrust occupies a large place in the character of the villagers, and they fear the rich even when bringing gifts. What hidden intention is there in this unwonted generosity? The Mayor calls the Council together, and the result is a long document for the donor to sign. He is to undertake to place the clock in the tower at his own cost; he is to give an annuity of two thousand _reales_ to meet any expenses connected with the clock; he is