I am the first American they ever met they assure me every hour and we get on very well notwithstanding.
You can imagine what it is like when Spaniards, Moors and English Soldiers are all crowded into one long street with donkeys and geese and priests and smugglers and men in polo clothes and soldiers in football suits and sailors from the man-of-war.

Of course, the Rock is the best story of it all.

It is a fair green smiling hill not a fortress at all.

No more a fortress to look at than Fairmont Park water works, but the joke of it is that under every bush there is a gun and every gun is painted green and covered with hanging curtains of moss and every promenade is undermined and the bleakest face of the rock is tunnelled with rooms and halls.

Every night we are locked in and the soldiers carry the big iron keys clanking through the streets.
It is going to make interesting reading.
DICK.
GIBRALTAR.
February 23rd, 1893.
DEAR MOTHER: Aeneas who "ran the round of so many chances" in this neighborhood was a stationary stay at home to what I have to do.