ishing reredos within. Such fantastically fine stone carving is supposedly unsurpassed in Spain. Assuredly it knocks the breath completely out of the unsuspecting beholder. Such detail might be expected on a royal wedding cake or a bit of carved ivory, but not on a tremendous expanse of hard stone.
roofs and moulding gravestones hung with permanent tin violets that rattle in the wind. She could say many gentle things about homely little side chapels and quaint niches, but not much about the semi-barbarous modern church decorations that mar so many church walls. A wonderful picture might be painted of a country church
FROM THE ORIGINAL. SKETCH BY SAMUEL CHAMBERLAIN
Such are the very scattered and matter-of-fact observations of a literal-minded correspondent upon a many-sided subject. Were a dear old lady romanticist to approach it, more emphasis would be laid upon atmospheric touches, upon cool, whitewashed interiors, beaming old priests puttering around the churchyard, moss grown
wedding. The groom, braced by a sizeable “dot,” in the most formal and uncomfortable of evening clothes, although the wedding be at noon; the bride a hidden, white pom-pom; the guests in paper shirt fronts, rented clothes and detachable cuffs which detach at the wrong moment; it all makes up into a delectable character study. The