The fish market is one of the most noted buildings in the city. It has one long marble table running the entire length of the building, which has one end open to the harbor. Poultry and fruits are brought to the doors of the houses in baskets which are carried on donkeys or the little horses of the country. Often you can see what looks like a large bunch of grass, slowly moving over the pavements, but as it gets nearer you will see the head of a donkey sticking out of one side, while his tail alone is visible on the other side. This is the way that food for horses and mules is brought into the city; no hay is used, only green feed. The milkman does not call at the house, as with us, but instead drives his cow up to the door and supplies you direct from her with as much milk as you wish to buy. Charcoal is almost the only fuel used in cooking, and the ranges look like benches placed against the walls with holes in the tops of them. But we must return to the battleship Maine. [Illustration: Columbus Chapel, Havana.] There was no special work for the Maine to do; she was simply to stay in the harbor till further orders. The Spanish officers called on Captain Sigsbee, and he returned their visits, according to the rules that naval officers of all countries are bound to observe. Yet it was easy for the men of the Maine to see that they were not welcome guests. The Maine had twenty-six officers, and a crew of three hundred and twenty-eight men. With her guns, ammunition, and other valuable stores, she was worth $5,000,000. She had been three years in service, having left the Brooklyn navy-yard in November, 1895. The evening of February 10th, 1898, was dark and sultry. At eight o'clock Captain Sigsbee received the reports from the different officers of the ship that every thing was secure for the night. At ten minutes after nine the bugler sounded "taps," the signal for "turning in," and soon the ship was quiet. At forty minutes after nine a sharp explosion was heard, then a loud, long, roaring sound, mingled with the noise of falling timbers; the electric lights went out, the ship was lifted up, and then she began to sink. The Captain and some of the other officers groped their way to the deck, hardly knowing what had happened. They could do nothing; the ship was sinking fast, and was on fire in several places. The force of the explosion was so great that it threw Captain Sigsbee out of his cabin, where he sat writing a letter, and against William Anthony, a marine who was on duty as a sentry. As coolly as though nothing had happened, Anthony saluted the Captain and then said: "Sir, I have the honor to inform you that the ship has been blown up and is sinking." [Illustration: Captain Charles D. Sigsbee.]