There was a general peal of laughter from the crowd at this. The Spanish consul, unabashed, with a smile walked away, stating that there were other hotels in the town, where he could take his women, that were just as good as Grau's and that he would do so now.
The Hotel Saint-Pierre is near the harbor on the Calle Colon, a cheap business street. Many people prefer it for their sojourn in Asuncion as it has the reputation for having the best cooking. In this respect I found it lacking in the abundance and in the variety of that of the Hispano-Americano. There is no bar; the rooms are small, and the proprietor frequently tells the guests to retire to their rooms by a side entrance as he is engaged entertaining friends in the hotel parlor and main entrance. The proprietor is named Saint-Pierre, hence the name of the hotel. He claims to be a French count, but the consensus of most people is that he is crazy. He is a little, bald-headed old man about sixty-five years old, with a gray moustache and imperial. He orders the guests around as if he was bestowing upon them a favor for allowing them to get lodging there. Many people desiring to obtain rooms there are expected to furnish a pedigree. Colonel David Brainard, U. S. A., military attaché to the United States Embassy at Buenos Aires, a very distinguished man and one of the survivors of the famous Greely expedition that attempted to discover the North Pole some time ago, was on an extended trip through Paraguay with his friends. From Villa Rica he telegraphed to Monsieur le comte de Saint-Pierre engaging rooms. The latter worthy before he would allow his distinguished guests-to-be to take up their domicile at his establishment looked up their character and antecedents much to the amusement and disgust of Colonel Brainard and friends.
The Gran Hotel del Paraguay occupies several single story buildings in a large lawn on a hill, a twenty minutes' ride by cab from the business section of Asuncion. For a man it is too far away to be handy, but it is an ideal place for ladies with yarn to knit and novels to read. The American consul rooms there. The bad feature of this hotel is that the pedestrian at night in walking or driving there should never take his finger from the trigger of his Derringer, for thieves often lurk behind the giant locust trees on the Avenida España. After 2 A.M. the street lights go out; walking then up the umbrageous road is nearly impossible.
Natives stop at the Hotels Kosmos, Español, Palermo, and other similar dumps conducive to vermin, mosquitoes, and malodorous toilets.
A Dutchman runs an excellent high-class pension named Villa Colombia, where Argentine highbrows such as Don Nicolas Mihanovich sojourn while visiting the city. This is in a large lawn across the street from the Belvedere gardens. While I was in Asuncion, there was a big hullabaloo because some thief stole eleven thousand dollars which the Dutchman had hidden in an envelope in his residence.
The Capitol is a large barnlike rambling building with broad verandas and is crowned with a square cupola. It was built by Carlos Antonio Lopez and is the pride of the inhabitants; its picture adorns the postage stamps of high denominations and also the two peso paper currency.
Asuncion is the only South American city which has stone sidewalks. They were originally built during the regime of Lopez I., who was the patron of modernity. Asuncion as well as Villa Encarnacion has brick sidewalks like the Massachusetts towns. The bricks and tile are of good quality and shape. The brick layers and stone masons do better work here than in Argentina and the rough brick buildings do not look as dilapidated as in the last named republic. The red soil of Paraguay is adapted to the manufacture of good bricks and a specie is turned out akin to Bradford red.
There are three breweries in Paraguay: the one owned by Bosio Brothers being the large fine one at the port. There is a branch brewery at a suburb named Puerto Sanjonia which is now closed down. This brewery and that of the Cerveceria Montevideana at Montevideo, Uruguay, brew the best beer in South America. The 14 de Mayo brewery at Villa Encarnacion likewise turns out a good product and there is a small German brewery at San Bernardino in whose beer spring water is used. This last mentioned brewery caters solely to family and local trade like that of Ahrens in Córdoba and those of Peters and of Degen in San Antonio, Texas. The Asuncion drinking water of the hotels is the limit. They have no wells but instead they have tanks on their roofs to catch the rain water. These tanks are never cleaned and the sides are covered with green fungus. A dead cat bloated beyond recognition was found in the tank of the Hispano-Americano. I drank the water without knowing it. At home we eat frog's legs. The Asuncenos delight in eating the body of the cucurús, the great garden toad. The Chaco Indians rejoice in stewed monkey and fried slices of gran vibora, a snake peculiar to that swamp, while the iguana is held in edible estimation by the white population. Locust pies and boiled parrot also find their way down the alimentary canals of the aborigines.
The two places of the greatest interest to the stranger in Asuncion are the cemetery of Mangrullo and the market-place. The former is located beyond the city limits on the road to Puerto Sajonia. It is on a high-road hill from which an excellent panorama can be had of the city, the river, and the Chaco beyond. The origin of the name is unknown, but the word "Mangrullo" is always used to denote the military lookout tower.
This cemetery is redolent with the thoughts of spooks, banshee, ghosts, and other phantomic gentry of like species. In daytime it is a lugubrious place nearly surrounded by high walls, from above which tower slender cypress trees, and at night it must be doubly so, especially when the moon plays on the mortuary chapel from the tree limbs. This cemetery is where the poor people are buried; the wealthy are interred in the aristocratic Recoleta.