As A Man I Could Not Help Liking What I Saw, But I Could Also
Grieve For The Boy Who Would Have Been So Disappointed If He Had Come To
The Basque Provinces Of Spain When He Was From Ten To Fifteen Years Old,
Instead Of Seventy-Four.
It took our train nearly an hour to get by twenty miles of those
pleasant farms and the pretty hamlets which they now and then clustered
into.
But that was fast for a Spanish way-train, which does not run,
but, as it were, walks with dignity and makes long stops at stations, to
rest and let the locomotive roll itself a cigarette. By the time we
reached San Sebastian our rain had thickened to a heavy downpour, and by
the time we mounted to our rooms, three pair up in the hotel, it was
storming in a fine fury over the bay under them, and sweeping the
curving quays and tossing the feathery foliage of the tamarisk-shaded
promenade. The distinct advantage of our lofty perch was the splendid
sight of the tempest, held from doing its worst by the mighty headlands
standing out to sea on the right and left. But our rooms were cold with
the stony cold of the south when it is cooling off from its summer, and
we shivered in the splendid sight.
III
The inhabitants of San Sebastian will not hesitate to say that it is the
prettiest town in Spain, and I do not know that they could be hopefully
contradicted.
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