[81] See Wentworth Webster, “Les Loisirs d’un Étranger au Pays Basque.” 1901. This was a common practice of the Romans who, meeting words so rough and horrid to their Latin pronunciation in the land of the Basques, “quorum nomina,” according to Pomponius Mela, “nostro ore concipi nequeunt,” would smooth and round these names and give them a Latin derivation. The Spaniards may have done the same in the case of Valencia Island, Co. Kerry. The form in old maps is Ballinish (_Innish_, “island,” and _ball_, “home” or perhaps “mouth”--the harbour the mouth of the island), and the peasants still pronounce the name Valinch. [82] Yet those who connect Barcelona with the smoke and gloom of an industrial city, having heard it spoken of as the Manchester of Spain, are mistaken. Barcelona is still worthy of the praise of the Venetian ambassador in the sixteenth century, who called it a “bellissima città,” with “copia di giardini bellisimi,” and of the praises of Cervantes in “Don Quixote,” and in “Las Dos Doncellas,” where it is the “flower of the beautiful cities of the world and an honour to Spain.” [83] “España: Hombres y paisajes.” 1909. [84] A Spanish proverb says: “When it rains, it rains; when it snows, it snows; but ’tis bad weather when it blows.” Agriculture in many parts of Spain is literally “ἀπάνευθεν ἐπ’ ἀγροῦ πήυατα πάσχειν--to suffer woes apart upon the land.” [85] Cf. Pío Baroja, “César ó Nada.” Madrid, 1910: “Hay una hora en estos pueblos castellanos, adustos y viejos, de paz y serenidad ideales. Es el comenzar de la mañana. Todavía los gallos cantan, las campanadas de la iglesia se derraman por el aire y el sol comienza á penetrar en las calles en ráfagas de luz. La mañana es un diluvio de claridad que se precipita sobre el pueblo amarillento. El cielo está azul, el aire limpio, puro y diáfano; la atmósfera transparente no da casi efectos de perspectiva, y su masa etérea hace vibrar los contornos de las casas, de los campanarios y de los remates de los tejados. El viento frío y sutil juega en las encrucijadas y se entretiene en torcer los tallos de los geranios y de los claveles que llamean en los balcones. Hay por todas partes un olor de jara y de retama quemada que viene de los hornos donde se cuece el pan, y un olor de alhucema que viene de los zaguanes.” Castille has been a little neglected by the novelists in comparison with other regions. But recently Ricardo León (in “El Amor de los Amores,” 1910), has sung the praises of the _ancha, heróica tierra de Castilla_, its austere simplicity and strength, its serene atmosphere, its golden crops, its flocks of sheep, clear streams, thyme-scented solitudes, and far horizons. And _Azorín_, in a short study, “En la Meseta” (_La Vanguardia_ of Barcelona, January 4, 1911), as in his books “España,” “El Alma Castellana,” “Los Pueblos,” skilfully portrays the inner spirit of Castille: “Por la ventana se columbra un paisaje llano,