“You observe that they all slope to the south,” replied the doctor. “They are used in drying raisins. This is a grape as well as an orange country. Raisins are dried grapes; and, when you eat your plum-pudding in the future, you will be likely to think of the country around Malaga, for the nicest of them come from here.”
“This is a wild country,” said Murray, after they had been nearly two hours on the train.
“We pass through the western end of the Sierra Nevada range. Notice this steep rock,” added the doctor, as they passed a lofty precipice. “It is ‘Lovers’ Rock.’”
“Of course it is,” laughed Murray; “and they jumped down that cliff; and there is not a precipice in the world that isn’t a lovers’ leap.”
“I think you are right. In this case it was a Spanish knight, and a Moorish maiden whose father didn’t like the match.”
The travellers left the train at Bobadilla, and proceeded by rail to Archidona. Between this place and Loxa the railroad was not then built; and the distance—about sixteen miles—had to be accomplished by diligence. Half a dozen of these lumbering vehicles were in readiness, with their miscellaneous teams of horses and mules all hitched on in long strings. This part of the journey was likely to be a lark to the students; and they piled into and upon the carriages with great good-nature. The doctor and his pupils secured seats on the outside.
“This is the coupé in Spain, but it is the banquette in Switzerland,” said he, when they were seated. “It is called the dickey in England.”
“But the box for three passengers, with windows in the front of the diligence, is always the coupé,” added Sheridan.
“Not in Spain: that is called the berlina here. The middle compartment, holding four or six, is el interior; and la rotundo, in the rear, like an omnibus, holds six. The last is used by the common people because it is the cheapest.”
“But this seat is not long enough for four,” protested Murray, when the conductor directed another officer to mount the coupé”.