Except the walk on the Rambla, there is really nothing going on on Sunday. The inhabitants of Barcelona observe the Sunday very closely; no business is transacted, though they amuse themselves after morning mass. The priests are all dominant here; we were told to-day they had for some days watched the downward progress of the barometer, and, as prayers had been offered up for rain, they beheld with delight the descent of the mercury. A few hours before the rain actually fell, the Archbishop and clergy passed out in procession, singing a dirge for rain; and before they had completed their walk, they had the satisfaction of finding themselves drenched to the skin, and returned to their various churches, declaring that a miracle had been performed.
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