Our friends found that some of the streets were narrow and crooked, but the most of them were comparatively straight, and crossed at right angles. They drove past the principal buildings, the governor's residence, City Hall, and several churches, and then into the suburbs, where they saw some pretty gardens full of tropical flowers.
As the forenoon advanced the heat increased, and they returned to breakfast at their hotel. The table was set on the veranda, which afforded a fine view of the lofty peaks of the Andes. The manager of the establishment was a stout and dreamy Spaniard, who went to sleep if his attention was not wanted for a minute, but waked immediately when he was spoken to. The waiter was of aboriginal descent, and seemed to have copied the habits of his master in the matter of deliberation, as he paused after each step, as though uncertain about the next.
They had a breakfast of tortillas, or Spanish griddle-cakes, a chicken broiled over the coals, which were still adhering in places, and an omelette in which various peppery things were very apparent to the palate.
When they were nearing the end of their repast, and just as Fred was helping himself to more of the omelette, there was a trembling of the floor that brought the youths out of their chairs and caused the Doctor to assume an upright position. The movement lasted perhaps a quarter of a minute, and then ceased.
"Take your seats again," said Dr. Bronson, "and finish your breakfast. We are in the land of the earthquake, and this is an every-day occurrence."
He suited the action to his word, and sat down. The youths followed his example, and a moment's reflection told them that they ought not to be disturbed by such a trifling shake at the very beginning of their South American experience.
IN THE LAND OF THE EARTHQUAKE.