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The chapel of the nunery is in the best preservation.  Some silver ornaments still remain there - and the old nuns have kept at bay somewhat the ravages of time and dirt.  These ten old nuns are all that remain of the old establishment.
The chapel of the nunery is in the best preservation.  Some silver ornaments still remain there - and the old nuns have kept at bay somewhat the ravages of time and dirt.  These ten old nuns are all that remain of the old establishment.
Scarcely a day passed as night while we were in Panama - but there was a procession of the priest.  They are preceeded by a bell.  Many nights I was awakened by the chanting of these processions - and going out upon the balcony watched them as surrounded with torches they passed along.  The customary habits of the priests is a long brimed hat and black gown.  They are polite and seemed to like notice from us Americans.  I used regularly to bow on meeting the padres.
Scarcely a day passed as night while we were in Panama - but there was a procession of the priest.  They are preceeded by a bell.  Many nights I was awakened by the chanting of these processions - and going out upon the balcony watched them as surrounded with torches they passed along.  The customary habits of the priests is a long brimed hat and black gown.  They are polite and seemed to like notice from us Americans.  I used regularly to bow on meeting the padres.
One of the things which was pleasant at first - but became a great annoyance at lenth was the chiming or tolling of the bells.  The noise and alarum of the good - the passable or the cracked and bad ones - made quite a jingle - but it came so often that I wished the Devil had all the bells in the place.  Such horrible and discordant mingling of sounds was enough to split one's ears.
At Gorgona - where I went to the church one Sunday - the building and its appurtenanas looked the most povery striken imaginable.  Outside on a pole - was suspended several fragments of bells - a tongue hung gloomyly down without a piece of metal whence to sound its melancholy tale.  A mutilated image - a rough cross - a tin Hivst - bore witness unto what straitened circumstances Popey had fallen - with what desperate effort it kept its head above water.
One of our pastimes - when weary within doors was to walk about the streets or saunter through the shops.  These are all attended by the women.  Next door to our quarters was a shop kept by a woman - who was the widow of an Englishman and having lived some years in the island of Jamaica - spoke English tolerably - Señora Doneda was quite talkative and good humored - and very proud of her daughter Hesefa - who had been educated at Chara - and played the guitar quite well.  We were first attracted there by this young Senoritas music.  They were quite a respectable family - and prided

Latest revision as of 19:41, 21 August 2020

50 saints - if they could only speak - their lamentations would exceed Jeremiahs. The chapel of the nunery is in the best preservation. Some silver ornaments still remain there - and the old nuns have kept at bay somewhat the ravages of time and dirt. These ten old nuns are all that remain of the old establishment. Scarcely a day passed as night while we were in Panama - but there was a procession of the priest. They are preceeded by a bell. Many nights I was awakened by the chanting of these processions - and going out upon the balcony watched them as surrounded with torches they passed along. The customary habits of the priests is a long brimed hat and black gown. They are polite and seemed to like notice from us Americans. I used regularly to bow on meeting the padres. One of the things which was pleasant at first - but became a great annoyance at lenth was the chiming or tolling of the bells. The noise and alarum of the good - the passable or the cracked and bad ones - made quite a jingle - but it came so often that I wished the Devil had all the bells in the place. Such horrible and discordant mingling of sounds was enough to split one's ears. At Gorgona - where I went to the church one Sunday - the building and its appurtenanas looked the most povery striken imaginable. Outside on a pole - was suspended several fragments of bells - a tongue hung gloomyly down without a piece of metal whence to sound its melancholy tale. A mutilated image - a rough cross - a tin Hivst - bore witness unto what straitened circumstances Popey had fallen - with what desperate effort it kept its head above water. One of our pastimes - when weary within doors was to walk about the streets or saunter through the shops. These are all attended by the women. Next door to our quarters was a shop kept by a woman - who was the widow of an Englishman and having lived some years in the island of Jamaica - spoke English tolerably - Señora Doneda was quite talkative and good humored - and very proud of her daughter Hesefa - who had been educated at Chara - and played the guitar quite well. We were first attracted there by this young Senoritas music. They were quite a respectable family - and prided