At Irun the _aduaneros_, who are all mustachios and impertinence, are supposed to be very exacting, and one is warned not to look cross or anxious as one's portmanteaux are plumbed, and rummaged, and mauled by the fingers of gentlemen who seem to think that smoking and eating garlic are nearer to godliness than cleanliness. So, taking advantage of this advice, we immediately on our arrival called up a ready-made and vacant smile, and assumed such an air of nonchalance, that the _aduaneros_ must have thought we were stupidly regardless of our personal property. One sharp-eyed little official, however, not quite understanding how any sane man could travel about Europe with a washing apparatus, seized greedily upon our friend's india-rubber bath with a little growl of ferocity. This convenient article, as all know, is fluted round the edges; and the little man consequently came to the conclusion that the fluted divisions must constitute some kind of infernal machine, provided with a certain number of barrels, the explosion of which would blow up the Queen of Spain and her Ministry; and that we, of course, were a couple of daring revolutionists. It was with some difficulty that we succeeded in convincing the important official that he was in error, and then we were allowed to proceed. The rain still descended in cataracts, the wind blew with unrestrained violence, and everything looked damp, dirty, and dull, as we once more entered the railway carriage. Here we rashly fired off a sentence of Spanish in the reckless manner of one who fires off his gun when "Woodcock" is suddenly shouted in a plantation, viz., shutting the eyes, firing in the air, and trusting to Providence. "_No se cambia coches Burgos?_" gasped we. "No, señor," answered the guard. We restrained all further desire for conversation with that functionary, as vain, weak, and unprofitable, for it is said, "Set a beggar on horseback, and he will ride to"--a gentleman not usually mentioned in polite society. But for our part, we make it a golden rule, when we wish to air our French or Italian, never to address persons of a stern aspect, never to make linguistic experiments upon hard-looking men. It is better to single out an individual with a mild and rather fatuous countenance for the purpose in question. We avoid individuals of imposing presence, and seek out humble little men who slink into corners, and, if possible, people of delicate constitution. A quiet young man in spectacles, for instance, who is going to Mentone for health, and who has a box by his side labelled, "_Fragile--Huile de foie de morue_," is a good subject; in fact, any one who is too feeble to be astonished at anything.