SPANISH COURTESIES.
The courtesies characteristic of the Spanish linger in California, and seem, as you encounter them amid the less observant habits of the emigration, like golden-tinted leaves of Autumn, still trembling on their stems in the rushing verdure of Spring. They exhibit themselves in every phase of society and every walk of life. You encounter them in the church, in the fandango, at the bridal altar, and the hearse: they adorn youth, and take from age its chilling severity. They are trifles in themselves, but they refine social intercourse, and soften its alienations. They may seem to verge upon extremes, but even then they carry some sentiment with them, some sign of deference to humanity. I received a cluster of wild-flowers from a lady, with a note in pure Castilian, and bearing in the subscription the initials of the words, which rudely translated mean, “I kiss your hand.” One might have felt tempted to write her back—
Thou need’st not, lady, stoop so low
To print the gentle kiss:
Can hands return what lips bestow,
Or blush to show their bliss?