Cordova, Spain, December 18, 1905. The great mosque of Cordova is one of the wonders of the world. It represents the finest religious architecture left by the Moors, as the Alhambra is the finest monument of their secular architecture. It was rather late and the light was not good, but the impression was one of surprising beauty. The forest of columns of alabaster and every kind of precious marble brought back your lines: Columns that demurely paired guard the solemn aisles! Spain seems two hundred years behind Italy. Already I feel I am getting some understanding of this strange race. The racial type, after the Egyptian, is the strongest I have seen; there are a few varieties often repeated. I fancy there has been little intermarriage with other races, for the dominant traits do not seem to have changed since the time of Philip II. I see him everywhere! The people all look like Velasquez portraits. The gravity, the politeness, the pride all weigh upon one like tangible atmospheric conditions. Such manners I have not seen, even in France; honesty, cleanliness, sobriety, seem common virtues. In Seville I had a wonderful morning in the cathedral, where I heard High Mass with both organs pealing grandly and such a choir! It was very moving to stand beside the sarcophagus that it is claimed actually holds the ashes of Columbus and to remember that we had seen both in Santo Domingo and in Havana, the places where his bones formerly lay!--Found your letter here. What a gay time you have had lately. “First in fun, first in sport, first in the heart of her familee.” * * * * * Madrid, December 21, 1905. Our good friends, Villegas and Lucia, met us at the train and brought us to their house, bag and baggage, scrip and scrippage, typewriter too. We have an alcove room with an open fire where we burn olive wood. Lucia’s housekeeping is a fine art, the most perfect neatness imaginable. The cook they brought with them from Rome gives us the dear old Italian dishes; the Spanish cooking is good but deadly rich. Here’s the best recipe for “left-overs” I know. Take whatever scraps of meat, poultry and fish you have and bake them in a foundation of rice, olives and tomatoes, slightly flavoured with onion. It sounds incredible, it is delicious. Christmas was a nice bright day. I wanted to go to Mass, but the English doctor, called in for a slight cold, forbade it. There is a lot of influenza and some smallpox in the city. In a family where there is illness the old women and the children are sent to church to pray for the sick person, and so the contagion is spread.