The Escolta appeared less beautiful in spite of the fact that an imposing building with caryatids carved on its front now occupied the place of the old row of shops.

The new Bridge of Spain caught his attention, while the houses on the right bank of the river among the clumps of bamboo and trees where the Escolta ends and the Isla de Romero begins, reminded him of the cool mornings when he used to pass there in a boat on his way to the baths of Uli-Uli.
He met many carriages, drawn by beautiful pairs of dwarfish ponies, within which were government clerks who seemed yet half asleep as they made their way to their offices, or military officers, or Chinese in foolish and ridiculous attitudes, or Gave friars and canons.

In an elegant victoria he thought he recognized Padre Damaso, grave and frowning, but he had already passed.

Now he was pleasantly greeted by Capitan Tinong, who was passing in a carretela with his wife and two daughters.
As they went down off the bridge the horses broke into a trot along the Sabana Drive.

[47] On the left the Arroceros Cigar Factory resounded with the noise of the cigar-makers pounding the tobacco leaves, and Ibarra was unable to restrain a smile as he thought of the strong odor which about five o'clock in the afternoon used to float all over the _Puente de Barcas_ and which had made him sick when he was a child.