will increase delays and defeat his object. He must learn the Spanish proverb thoroughly--_Paciencia y barajar_, “Patience, and shuffle the cards.” Patience and courtesy he will find to be above rubies. The Spaniard, so sensitive and excitable, remains unmoved by delays and petty official tyrannies which drive an Englishman into a kind of despair and fury of impatience.[50] But the lower officials in Spain are apt to be ignorant and self-important, very official, and curt inquiries only remind them that they represent the whole majesty of the Law and the State; they multiply their shrugs and inscrutable _No se puede_’s. On the other hand, a polite speech, though it occupy several of the few minutes that the traveller may have to spare, is in Spain time well spent and performs miracles;--if, that is, he still persists in considering the value of time, and has not found it simpler to accept the less accurate methods of the Spaniard. For he may ask in a cathedral, “When is Mass going to be celebrated?” and the answer is, “_No sé, Señor_; _Cuando vengan los canónigos_”--when it is the good pleasure of the Canons to appear; or he may ask in a station, “When does the train start?” and must not be surprised if the answer is again, “_No sé, Señor_.” He had best content himself once and for all to breakfast at five-o’clock tea, and will find consolation in the thought that here at least there is no unseemly rush and strain, in this original and exquisite land of To-morrow--_Mañana por la mañana_. III ON THE SPANISH FRONTIER