The party was large and each guide was obliged to keep twenty minutes behind the band before him. This was done like clockwork, and yet, such is the uncertainty of such arrangements and the intensity of the human desire to get ahead of one's neighbors that, do as he would, Billfinger was constantly butting his leaders into the rear of the enemy—for such they were regarded, once the procession got into full swing and the excitement had reached its zenith. This led to endless confusion, and the members of party No. 9 (our set) had to be fished out and sorted from the ranks of Nos. 10 and 8, thus producing many violent squabbles among the guides. Adjustments were slow and by the time they were made a general congestion had set in at the rear and the "Corks" were all bobbing round in hopeless confusion, extending even to the outer gates at which we had entered the citadel. But the man with the voice from Chicago now came into his own and showed how easily he could quell a friendly riot. He mounted a parapet and with a green umbrella as a baton shouted back his orders, and they were obeyed with such telling effect that in a short time the procession moved like a well oiled machine and we had no further trouble. By most of the pilgrims it was considered that this was hardly a fitting or dignified entrance into one of the noblest ruins of any time or country; but this is a practical age, and we got right down to the business of inspecting what is left of the Alhambra. When such a man as Washington Irving was so inspired by the marvelous beauty of this place and lived ninety days in one of these buildings (which was pointed out to us by Billfinger), in order to get the spirit of the times and place in which these halls were erected and peopled, and there wrote his celebrated historical and romantic book, Tales of the Alhambra, published in 1829 (obtainable in any library), it would seem best that I leave the reader to peruse that famous work for ideas and details which, should they be supplied by the ordinary scribbler, could but belittle such a noble subject. I therefore suggest that those interested procure that book and read it for themselves.
THESE SANDOWS OF STAMBOUL ARE CONSIDERED A HUSKY TRIO, EVEN IN THIS CITY OF STRONG MEN. IF THESE KEGS ARE FILLED WITH SOUR MASH THEY'RE A MENACE TO THE WHISKEY TRUST AND OUGHT TO BE TAXED ACCORDINGLY
We went to bed early, for we had to rise long before daylight and take the train for Gibraltar, where the King of Cork lay waiting for us, for she had steamed from Cadiz to "The Rock" after we left her; and although we had enjoyed every minute of the trip, we were glad to get back to the only home we had, on the water.
We had made quite a circuit through Spain, and it had been a most interesting journey. We had thought of Spain as a land of dust, sand and rocky mountains, but instead of that we found broad, fertile plains, well cultivated and with every sign of prosperity. Above all other things the feature of the country is the thousands of well kept olive orchards; then there are sugar-cane, and grapes and other fruit, in abundance. Some of the buildings on the ranches are very fine and imposing, reminding the visitor of English estates. We were fortunate in passing through the cork producing district, and saw the whole process of barking the trees, cutting the bark in oblong squares and stacking it up like lumber in a large yard. The trees grow their bark again after it is stripped off and from time to time it is again cut as before. At the first sight the "Corks" got of this industry, they showed their interested appreciation by taking a thousand and one snap-shots before the train left the station.
Most intelligent Spaniards will tell you that they were angry when we took Cuba and the Philippines from them, but now they regard it as a blessing in disguise, as they had no business with expensive colonies, are better off at the present time than they have been for decades, and hope for a new era of prosperity. The largest blot on the country is the cruel bull fighting, but their English Queen has set her face against it and it is distinctly on the wane.
ALGERIA
When we had finished up the stereotyped sights of Gibraltar and had thrown overboard a New Jersey insurance agent for criminally mentioning "Dryden's Hole," that bewhiskered "chestnut," in connection with the time-honored "Rock," we steamed across the Mediterranean to Algiers, some four hundred and ten miles away. Algeria has a water front of six hundred miles, and extends back two hundred and fifty from the shore. It was conquered by the Romans in 46 B.C.; subsequently the coast of Barbary became the dread of every ship that sailed the sea. With varying success, many nations, including Spain, France, England and the United States (fleet commanded by Commodore Decatur), took a hand in trying to tame the horde of cut-throat pirates who for centuries committed unspeakable atrocities and cruelties. It is hard to realize that only seventy-five years ago these sanguinary pirates held complete sway on the Mediterranean, and that England alone had six thousand of her subjects captured and enslaved by them in 1674. It is estimated that six hundred thousand from all the nations were captured and worked to death in chains. This spot is the "chamber of horrors" in all human history. To the French belongs the honor of finally taming these wretches and drawing their claws. Algeria is now a French colony, is well ordered and quite safe for the visitor.