The distinction between the American and Mexican Indian is not one of colour alone. There is also a difference in nature. The American Indian has never been fully subdued, but the Aztecs were conquered by one overwhelming blow and their spirit crushed. The conquest wrought vast changes in the lives of these people who once roamed over large estates which they could call their own. The lands then tilled by their slaves, they themselves now cultivate for others. Yet they are a satisfied people, and no one ever hears them complain. Though poverty is their lot they are content, believing that some people are born rich and others poor, and that this contrast is in the very nature of things.

Centuries of neglect have not improved either the moral or physical condition of the peon, but it has not made a misanthrope of him. Neither has the fact that he bears no part in the government made him an anarchist or filled his pockets with bombs. So long as a beneficent providence provides present needs he is supremely content. The mania for the almighty dollar has not yet entered into his life so that envy of others does not exist. It is this envy that makes poverty a menace and element of danger in our own land. The peon neither feels shame for his own lowly condition nor desires pity from others in more prosperous circumstances.

Fully one-third of the population of Mexico are full-blooded Indians and another one-half are mestizos, those of mixed blood. Many of the latter and a number of pure-blooded Indians have reached high positions. A number of the presidents also, including Guerrero and the noble Juarez, were pure Indians, and more of them are representatives of the mestizos. This is proof that there is no prejudice against the Indians as a race such as the anti-negro sentiment in the Southern States. These illustrious examples are, however, the striking exceptions. Most of them are in about the same category as the southern negroes,—a race without ambition. Content to be the servants of another race they neither court nor welcome change.

These people make up the great peon class of Mexico who constitute the bulk of the population. They are the descendants of those who were enslaved by the early conquerors. The Aztecs were an industrious people as the great structures erected by them, the irrigating works still in use, and the evidences of judicious and careful cultivation of every foot of tillable soil bear mute witness. Poverty was almost unknown among them and rigid laws existed against begging. Among some of the early tribes of Mexico one-third of the land was divided equally among the able-bodied men in proportion to the families they had to sustain. Provision was made by the State for the sick and other classes of unfortunates. No doubt the enslaving of these people had a weakening effect upon their character.

A natural laziness, ignorance and a lack of interest will probably always keep down the peon’s efficiency as a worker. The few and simple wants of his nature and his general contentment eliminate to a great extent the desire to improve his condition and accumulate property. Then, too, the evenness of the climate and the fact that at all times some crop is being harvested, thus making it unnecessary to lay up for an unproductive season, has had its influence. The labourer is usually given a certain task for his day’s work. Nothing can induce him to do more than that task except the assurance that the excess, or over-time, will be credited to some future day so that he will get a longer holiday. These labourers are cheap and it requires many of them to accomplish much but there are millions to be had. They are happy-go-lucky and are unconcerned for the future. Yet the very fact that they do not possess self-control and are always willing to follow a leader who understands how to make an appeal to their prejudices or fanaticism, renders this class a serious obstacle to a progressive government and one that must be intelligently studied.

The little brown man in the tall, broad-brimmed hat which seems to give an unusual height to his sturdy frame is a picturesque figure and the landscape is not complete without him. In the presence of strangers his face is solemn, but among others of his own kind he is gay and light-hearted, his face easily bursting into smiles. He will wrap his tattered shawl about him with as much dignity as the Spanish cavalier his richly-embroidered manta. The act of lighting a cigarette is a matter of studied ceremony. He will light a match, and first offer it to a friend with punctilious politeness. The recipient of the favour never fails to return muchas gracias (many thanks), señor. In fact, this elaborate politeness between these untidy, ill-clad Indians becomes a farce-comedy at times. He is polite and never fails to say con permiso (with your permission) if he is obliged to pass by another person, whether that person be in silks or rags. His own inferiority is admitted by calling a white man a gente de razon or “one who reasons,” as distinguished from himself,—a peon.

The peon is indispensable in Mexico for he is not only the labourer, but the body servant as well. In the latter capacity, if he becomes attached to his employer, he will not think of his own wants until the master is provided for, and will be faithful unto death, if necessary. His wages are always small, but he is satisfied with the little he gets. Gambling is a natural trait and he loses or gains with a stoicism worthy of greater things. His money is likewise spent freely at the pulque shop so that his finances are never embarrassed by a surplus. A little money will make him very full of liquor, and a little liquor will sometimes make him a bad man to handle.

The tenacity with which these people cling to an environment is a most notable trait. The peon is a lover of locality. Seldom can these Indians be induced to go away from their accustomed habitations. It is this trait that has made peonage an easy system to maintain in Mexico. They do not apply much intelligence to their work. Scratching the surface of the soil with a crooked stick is the perfection of ploughing in their estimation. The peon does not know and does not care to learn any different way of doing his work than the one taught him by his fathers. The possibility of earning more money by the use of labour-saving devices does not possess the same attraction as for the American labouring man.

Peonage, which is a mild form of slavery, is in force in Mexico. Earning from eighteen to fifty cents (silver) wages per day and improvident by nature, it is only natural for the peon to want at some time a little more money than that earned. An unscrupulous employer can easily involve the poor, ignorant Indian in a net of debt. After a while a debt of $50 to $100 has accumulated and the worker is in bondage until this amount is paid. It is an impossible sum for him to save out of his small wages, for live he must and support a family, which is usually large. The price of freedom is the total amount of the debt. Until that is paid the law compels him to work for his creditor, but he is free to get some one else to advance this money and change masters. He cannot be separated from his family, nor compelled to leave the plantation on which the debt was incurred without his consent. The owner may, however, sell the plantation and transfer the debt to his successor, and the peon must serve the new master under the same conditions.

On the immense haciendas of the uplands the peons are almost as much of a fixture as the buildings themselves. It is a strange adaptation of the old feudal relation and the idea of changing their abode never occurs to them. They were born in debt, always remain in that condition, and transmit the same burden to their posterity. This condition is usually entered into voluntarily by the Indians, so that in the beginning he has only himself to blame. An Indian who desires work will apply to the manager of a plantation or ranch for a retainer which seldom exceeds thirty dollars. He then signs a contract which binds himself, his family and his posterity to work until this advance is liquidated. Only a small part of the weekly wages may be applied on the debt, and it is tacitly understood that the debt may be increased after a time. The employer is obliged to furnish medical assistance free in case of sickness, and to advance the necessary fees for marriage, baptisms, confirmations and burials. Furthermore, whenever overtaken by old age and no longer able to work, the peon must be taken care of and furnished the necessities of life.

Holidays, feast-days and saint-days are many, and the peon insists on celebrating them all. Whether he understands much of the ritual and doctrines of the Catholic Church or not, he understands full well the meaning of a feast-day or “fiesta” for on that day he rests from his labours. It would not be patriotic to work on a national holiday (and they are numerous) so he abstains from labour on these occasions. Sundays are rest days and it generally requires Monday to recuperate from the effects of the pulque or tequila imbibed on that day. Then as each person has a patron saint, he insists on celebrating the saint-days of the master, mistress and each one of their family, of his own family, his father, mother, his wife’s father and mother, and, last, but not least, his own saint-day. Then each marriage, birth or death in the family gives occasion for another off-day. After this list is gone through with there remains only about two hundred working days for the average labourer. The peon is a philosopher. Knowing that it was a curse that man should earn his bread by the sweat of his brow, he tries to avoid as much of the curse as possible.

The system of peonage or contract labour in the tropics is revolting and often inhuman. The peon of the hot country is more independent, is fond of social life and is not so industrious as his brother in the uplands. Hence it becomes necessary to transport hundreds of labourers for work on tropical plantations. These are secured through contract agents who make this work a business. These agents pick them up over the country and deliver them in hundred lots to the plantation managers. The contractor advances from thirty to fifty dollars in silver to each labourer, and this amount together with his own fee, is then charged up against the peon who has contracted to work six months at perhaps fifty cents per day in the same white metal. The plantation manager binds himself to furnish rations, which usually consist of little more than tortillas (unleavened corn cakes), beans and rice and a little meat for Sunday, and a big palm hut will furnish accommodation for fifty or more men. But little space is allowed each worker, and here he spends all his time when not at work, for these contract men are, on many plantations, kept under guard night and day by armed overseers. Many of these poor fellows come from cities on the plateaus and soon fall a victim to tropical fevers. Many are men who have been convicted of petty offences and sign a labour contract in return for the payment of their fines by the contractor’s agent and consequent release from confinement. All, however, are treated alike on the plantations and are worked under the lash if necessary. At the end of the six months, there are not many dollars due the poor peon after deducting the price of the drinks and cigarettes which he has purchased at the company’s store. After drawing his money he is likely to make for the first town and drink or gamble it away. Then, not having funds enough to get home, he is again at the mercy of the contract agent or plantation owner.

The little brown man with back bent under a load has a countenance which is as full of rest and patient philosophy as a modern financier’s face is of care and wrinkles of anxiety. It is almost unfair to the simple-minded, patient and docile peon of Mexico to speak of him as an Indian for he is at once confused with the bloodthirsty redskin of the north. He is a peaceful, if improvident, character, and is a child in nature. He represents cheap labour and is one of the great attractions that brings wealth to Mexico. After a day’s work he is content to share his little adobe hut with the pigs and chickens, and can even find room for the chance wayfarer. A family of three or four generations, and numbering twenty people, will live in a hut that would not be considered a fit habitation for a donkey in the north. One American writer who was obliged to seek shelter in one of these huts gives an amusing account of his experience which shows the harmony and good-fellowship that exists in these households between the human and brute members. “I took an account of the stock before I turned in, and found there were three dogs, eleven cats, seven children, five men (not including five of us), three women and a dozen chickens, all sleeping, or trying to sleep, in the same room, under the one roof. And when I gave up sleeping, or trying to sleep, and wandered out into the night, I stepped on the pigs and startled three or four calves that had been sleeping under the porch.” So it is not surprising that a village of fifty huts may contain a thousand souls.

A cigarette given in proper spirit every day will more effectually keep his friendship than a present of a new suit of clothes. The latter will not be remembered long while the former keeps the memory ever fresh. They have been called the best and the poorest servants in the world. A trusted servant is, however, usually an honest one. These wholly satisfied people with whom our essentials are non-essentials rather disprove the theory that modern civilization is necessary to true happiness. Will the peon in the future wearing shoes, eating prepared breakfast foods and sleeping in a bed, be any happier than he is now barefooted and sleeping on a rush mat spread on an earthen floor?

A constantly increasing number of the peon class are moving to the industrial centres. Slowly but surely the leaven is working, and the opportunity for better wages is withdrawing the labourers from the plantations. The railroads, the mines and the factories are paying much higher wages than formerly prevailed, and find it difficult to secure sufficient labourers. Only the selected men can fill these positions for the average peon has not sufficient intelligence. He has a great imitative faculty and can learn a task, but is not a success in an employment that needs the exercise of reason and judgment. In many lines of work more is accomplished at less expense by peons with the rudest methods than by the use of the latest labour-saving machinery operated by peon labourers. Education will no doubt work great changes in the lives and habits of these people, but this will be a slow process in this land of “to-morrow.” The present conditions are interesting to one who desires to see how the rest of the world lives, and it will be a long time before the peon class will change very materially.

There is one class of the Indian worker that deserves more extended mention. This is that time-honoured institution called the cargador. As you meet him at every place throughout Spanish North America it may be interesting to the reader to learn something of his history and his accomplishments. It is not necessary to institute a search for the cargador. At the station you will be besieged by a small army of them and the hotel entrance may be blocked by them. When travelling across the country there is a never-ending succession of these picturesque characters singly and in groups. Sometimes the entire family is along. In such cases the boys, even down to little tots, carry a small package on their backs and the wife and girls balance a basket on their heads. Perhaps all their earthly belongings are contained in these various bundles.

The cargador of Mexico and Central America claims an ancient and honourable lineage. His occupation may be a humble one, but he can trace his ancestry back to the followers of that haughty Aztec emperor, Montezuma, or even to the still older race of the Toltecs. Not many years ago almost everything in these countries was carried on the backs of cargadors. Even now in the City of Mexico the cargador is an indispensable factor in the carrying trade, though there are many express and transfer companies engaged in that business. In the smaller places of Mexico, in the mountain districts, and in Central America he holds his old-time prestige and, with the cargo mule, monopolizes the carrying business.

The strength of these little, brown-skinned cargadors is wonderful. Short in stature and with thin legs and arms they look very insignificant. They cannot lift a very heavy weight, but they can make their fairer-skinned brother cry out in astonishment at the load they will carry when it is once adjusted on their back. The average load for a cargo mule is one hundred and fifty pounds. A cargador will start on a journey of two hundred or more miles with such a load and will cover more miles in a day over a rough mountain trail than a mule. At the station you will see the little cargador pick up a heavy trunk that you can scarcely move and start off with it at a faster pace than you care to walk. They always move in a peculiar jog-trot, and can usually keep it up for a long time. Up and down hill they go at an even pace, and will average about six miles per hour. For short distances some cargadors will carry as great a load as five hundred pounds, a seemingly impossible burden for so slender a body.

The strength in the back is a matter of training extending over many centuries. The Aztecs had no beasts of burden and the baggage of their armies was always carried by cargadors. The Spanish conquerors were obliged to adopt the same methods. Now, although there are mules and burros in great numbers, the cargador is still the great burden bearer and takes the place of the fast freight in the commerce of those sections away from the railway lines. A traveller can take his mule and send his baggage by a cargador, and the latter will reach the same stopping place each night and sometimes ahead of the man on the mule. Many cargadors carry their loads in a frame, supported by a broad leather band across the forehead. When thus loaded they cannot turn their heads and they do not seem to hear well, so that I have feared many times they would be run over by the careless drivers. If there are several together they trot along in the middle of the road in Indian file. If going on a long journey they carry along enough tortillas for the entire trip, and must always be given enough time to make these preparations. Several times a day they will stop and make a fire, prepare their coffee, and eat their tortillas and fruit if it can be obtained. At night they will sleep out in the open air under a porch, if possible; if this shelter cannot be had, then they will lay themselves down to rest under the brilliant starlit canopy of this tropical clime.

Many of the Indians are very swift runners. An instance is told in Guatemala of a runner who carried a dispatch one hundred and five miles into the interior and returned with an answer in thirty-six hours, making the trip over mountains and a rough trail at an average speed of six miles an hour, including stops and delays. It is said that fish caught at Vera Cruz in the evening were served at the dinner table of Montezuma the following day at his capital near the site of the present City of Mexico, a distance of nearly three hundred miles by road. This was done by a system of relay runners stationed about a mile apart, and they made almost as fast time as the railway train to-day. Whether this is true or not it is well known that the Aztecs had a wonderful system of communication. The Spaniards were frequently astonished at the rapidity with which the news of their movements was spread. These runners were trained to great speed and endurance from their youth. Hundreds of them were in constant use, and the Aztec emperors were kept in communication with all parts of their empire. The Aztecs also used these runners as spies and they thus took the place of scouting parties in present-day campaigns.

So it is that these cargadors come and go. Each generation is like the last. They are happy in that they want but little and that little is easily supplied. They are contented because they live for to-day and worry not for the morrow. They are satisfied to go through life as the bearers of other people’s burdens.

CHAPTER XI
CUSTOMS AND CHARACTERISTICS

It is always interesting to know how the rest of the world lives, but an experience with the customs and characteristics of a people impresses travellers in widely different ways. Mexico is a land of strange customs and strong characteristics which are deeply interesting to the sympathetic tourist. “Oh! the charm of the semi-tropical Spanish life!” says F. Hopkinson Smith. “The balconies above the patios trellised with flowers; the swinging hammocks, the slow plash of the fountains; the odour of jasmine wet with dew; the low thrum of guitar and the soft moonlight half-revealing the muffled figures in lace and cloak. It is the same old story, and yet it seems to me it is told in Spanish lands more delightfully and with more romance, colour and mystery than elsewhere on the globe.” On the other hand many matter-of-fact, unsympathetic travellers see only the impractical ways, annoyances and inconvenient customs like the writer who describes Mexico as “A land of lace and lice and love, of flowers and fights and fleas; of babies and bull-fights where pillow slips are open at both ends and where passengers get off the front end of the street-cars; where keys often six inches in length are fitted in keyholes turned upside down and invariably turned backward; where the weather forgets to change from day to day and people sleep under the same bed cover the year around.”

The Mexican has learned the secret of daily contentment. This is true generally of the creole class as well as of the peon. The fact that some seven thousand families practically own the entire landed estate of the country does not inspire envy in the bosoms of the other millions. It is a question whether the Anglo-Saxon and the Teuton can give these people more than mere mechanical contrivances. Home does not necessarily consist in an open fire, drawn curtains and frequent visits of curious neighbours. Here homes are found where privacy is respected, family affection is strong and there is respect for elders, love for parents and kindly relations between masters and servants. Such a country is not uncivilized and barbarous. There may be many odd and nonsensical customs but a reason can generally be found for them. When studying the natives it is enough to know that they are “an unselfish, patient, tender-hearted people; a people maintaining in their every-day life an etiquette phenomenal in a down-trodden race; offering instantly to the stranger and wayfarer on the very threshold of their adobe huts a hospitality so generous, accompanied by a courtesy so exquisite, that one stops at the next doorway to re-enjoy the luxury.”

If one has absolutely nothing to do or suffers from the constitutional ailment of having been born tired, Mexico is the place for him to rest. Nor will he be lonesome in the occupation of loafing for on every bench is a wayfarer for company. There is no Mexicanism more pronounced than that of procrastination. Never do to-day what can be put off until to-morrow is the revised motto. Nothing is so important that it cannot wait until mañana (to-morrow). An American, whom I met in Mexico, and who had lived there a number of years characterized the country as the land of mañana, esperase and poco tiempo, or the land of “to-morrow” and “wait-a-while.” Time is idled away. Nobody expects you to be punctual and you are not censured should you fail to keep an engagement. In fact, “you will probably be designated as a bore should you insist on scrupulously and punctually keeping all your appointments, for the man who always meets you on the dot is a nuisance in this southern land. If you have an appointment with a Mexican at noon, go at four o’clock in the afternoon and you will probably find him waiting for you. Had you gone on time, he might have been absent. Never be in a hurry, for constant hustle and bustle are the unpardonable sins. Respect the native customs and doze or read for a couple of hours after lunch and get busy as the sun nears the horizon.” The Mexican pays a compliment to Anglo-Saxon push by adding a la Inglesa to an appointment which is intended to be kept punctually or “after the English fashion.” It is impossible to educate the Mexican to American methods, so it behooves the foreigner who goes to Mexico to make up his mind to do business after the standards of that country. However lax or disappointing they may be he must remember that in Mexico his methods are the strange ones and not theirs, which are centuries old. In society calls lengthen to visits and last hours and the hurried five-minute calls are happily unknown. The longer the stay, the greater the compliment for it means that the visitor is enjoying herself.

In a country where, until recently, the purchase of a foreign draft was an all-day operation one cannot expect to do business in a very strenuous way. The people have breathed the somnolent atmosphere so long that they cannot be hurried. In fact, in some of the towns, the buzzards that encircle the town seem to be the only living creatures actually looking for something to do, for even the dogs would sneak down the alley to avoid trouble. And yet in the face of all this the Yankee drummer arrives in a town and scarcely takes time to brush the dust of travel from his clothes before he starts out to visit his prospective customers. He expects to round up his orders and take the train on the following morning for the next town. After running against a few mañanas from day to day without an opportunity to show his goods he feels about as disgusted as the enterprising American who, intending to revolutionize agriculture, took down a large stock of the latest American farming implements, but after a year’s effort had made no sale. The salesman who will succeed is not the one who tries to introduce the hurry-up methods of his own land, but the one who adapts himself to the country and does not attempt to rush things. It will require days and perhaps weeks to work a large city.

I met an Englishman in one of these large Spanish-American towns who was a fair example of the successful European drummer. He had made this route for years and was thoroughly conversant with the language and understood the ways of the people. His methods were a good illustration of the reason why English and German houses have for many decades controlled trade in Spanish America. They keep their old men on the route as long as possible, for a new man will not do much on his first trip. We stopped at the same hotel and I had a good opportunity of observing his business methods. For several days after arriving in the town he did nothing but make social calls on his customers, take them to the theatre and entertain them in a general way. During the next few days he invited them to his rooms to inspect his stock which was large and varied. Then he began to take orders. This method seems like a waste of time but the orders secured were large and well repaid for the time taken. The American drummer could not have controlled his impatience to be on the move and would have made a failure. Many who drop into Mexico on a flying trip, jump to the conclusion that the Mexican merchant is not so shrewd a business man as the American. They are apt to mistake the deliberate methods of the Latin race for poor methods. He consumes more time in placing his order and there is less rush and bustle about his store, but an experienced man will tell you that in the end he drives a pretty hard bargain for he knows the market price of the goods and wants the best discounts and longest credit.

Even the legal customs are peculiar and have proven decidedly embarrassing to many Americans. A number of years ago, before railroads were so numerous, the local officers always arrested the engineer and conductor in the event that any one was killed, and they were thrust into jail “incommunicado.” This means that you are to be incarcerated seventy-two hours in solitary confinement without bail, at the end of which time a judicial examination is given. An American whom I met there told me of his “incommunicado” experience. He was arrested because he had witnessed an affray and was held as witness, in solitary confinement, but was released by the official after the judicious use of thirty dollars. Their theory is that after a man has been kept in confinement for three days, with only his own thoughts for company, he is much more likely to tell the truth than if he had been in communication with his lawyers, friends and the reporters all that time. And who can deny the truth of their claim?

It is always best to keep out of the neighbourhood of trouble, or get out of it as quickly as you can if it comes your way, especially if in the remote districts, for offender and victim are both liable to arrest and imprisonment. Most cases are put off from day to day until one party or the other is weary of the proceeding. An instance which illustrates this was related to me by a man who was arrested for misdemeanour. Knowing the custom prevalent in the courts he hired an attorney to appear each day for him. When the case was called the judge would ask “Que quiere” (what do you want). After the case was explained he would dispose of it with the simple word mañana. The other man appeared each day until disgusted with the procedure and then dropped the matter. Lawyers charge so much per word and are paid for each article as it is written. Mexican notaries are very important personages. They take the place to a great degree of the old-fashioned, family lawyer. They are regarded in much the same light as the family confessor and are told the family secrets. To their credit, be it said, that the notary is usually a man worthy of the confidence placed in him.

The ceremonial and punctilious politeness of the Mexican, be he Don or peon, is interesting and oftentimes amusing. The Spaniard on meeting a friend on the street will stop and inquire one by one after the health of his wife, each of his children and the various other members of his household and then in turn will submit to the same interrogations from his friend. After witnessing such a scene between two men in silk hats you can turn down a side street and see a meeting between a poor Indian in rags and an old withered woman selling lottery tickets. Removing his tattered sombrero he bows gravely, and, in the softest of Spanish, says, “A los pies de usted, señora” (at your feet, lady). This is done with a grace and ease of manner worthy of any station in life; and her answer “My hands are for your kisses, señor,” is said in the same gracious way worthy of a duchess. Should you ask the man for his name he would be sure to add “Su criado de usted” (your servant).

The Mexicans are very proud and exclusive, and suspicious of the newcomer. Seldom indeed is it that an American gains the entree into their homes but, if he succeeds, they will be found among the most charming hosts in the world. This reserve is probably very natural. The Mexican has been educated in the strict Catholic schools and is a victim of custom old as his country, while the American coming to Mexico is a mercenary, ambitious person engaged in commercial strife and in the race for the almighty dollar. Then, the American is of a more matter-of-fact temperament and does not appreciate the impulsive nature of the Mexican. Money does not appeal to him except for the pleasure of spending it, and no person is more lavish in the expenditure of money, if he has it, than a Mexican gentleman.

The Mexican is a home lover and yet there is no word in the Spanish language that corresponds to our word for home. Casa, or house, is the nearest to it and the Mexican always speaks of his house when he means his home. The exaggerated conventionalities are often carried to the verge of the absurd. Perhaps there may be as much truth in their expressions as in the polite but oftentimes meaningless civilities of our own land. An American, on being introduced to a stranger, will feel that he has satisfied the etiquette of the occasion by simply expressing his pleasure in the acquaintance. The Mexican goes a step further and presents the newly-made acquaintance with his house.

“Su casa es numero ——,” he says with a graceful bow giving the street and number of his own house, which literally means “your house is number ——,” and usually adds, “It is entirely at your disposal; make yourself at home.” It is simply a polite way of saying “I am glad to meet you.” Perhaps five minutes later the incident is forgotten by the giver. One writer has said that he met fourteen men at a club in Mexico and was presented with thirteen houses. The fourteenth man was unmarried and not a householder. Occasionally some one not familiar with the emptiness of the phrase has presumed on its literal interpretation and called at one of the houses presented to him but has been turned away without the least sign of recognition.

If one expresses admiration for some article worn by another, he is quickly informed that the article is “at his disposal.” If you happen upon a Mexican at the dining hour, he will probably offer you his dinner. If you decline it, the occasion requires that you should do so with polite wishes for his digestion. These forms of hospitality are derived from Spanish ancestors and were by them probably copied from the Moors, after the open hand and open tent customs of the sons of the desert who meant these expressions literally. It has an empty meaning now, for nothing is left but the words. With all this seeming inconsistency and insincerity, the Mexicans are exceedingly kind hearted and will willingly do favours if approached in the right way; no service is too great towards those for whom they have formed an attachment. They will often accompany the departing guest for a long distance over hard roads as a mark of courtesy and friendship.

We are all victims of habit more or less. But, whereas the American welcomes innovations and adapts his habits to them, or forms new ones, the Mexican does not want any change from the customs of his ancestors. The expression “no es costumbre,” meaning it is not the custom, is a final and decisive answer that does not admit of argument. You might as well try to change the colour of the native as his habits. Americans who keep Mexican servants are for ever running contrary to the customs or prejudices of their help. For instance an American woman[2] who lived here a number of years relates the trouble she had to induce her servant to use a cook stove which she had imported from the United States. She refused because “it would give her disease of the liver.” In all seriousness she believed that such would be the result and nothing could induce her to have anything to do with the new-fangled thing. A peripatetic merchant came around selling eggs at six for a real. He refused to sell two dozen for four reals because “no es costumbre,” as eggs are always sold at six for a real, an incontrovertible argument.

A household will have difficulty in getting along with only one servant for it is customary to employ three or four in a small family and from twenty to forty in a large house. Each servant will do his or her own particular work cheerfully and will move about so lightly and airily that you hardly know any one is around. However, ask the man mozo to scrub the floor, or the cook to make the beds, and you will see a regretful look of the eye and be met with the ready answer, “no es costumbre.” Marketing is a right jealously guarded too, for es costumbre (it is the custom) and one of the perquisites of the man servant, since he receives a small fee from each person of whom purchases are made. The Indian servants are not accustomed to beds and want nothing but a mat to sleep upon. The traveller can see these in the halls at the hotel if he comes in a little late. Here these dusky natives sleep more soundly than do most Americans on the most luxurious of beds. An American lady in Oaxaca took pity on her girl servant and bought a comfortable iron bed for her to occupy. She then explained to her how the bed was used. Several days later she asked the servant how she liked her bed. The girl said it was fine—to lay her clothes on. The American woman finally gave up trying to change the habits of her maid. Servants become very devoted to their employers and their attachment is sometimes embarrassing. In case of a death in the family they immediately don black and mourn as though the lost one was a near relative of their own.

The economy of housekeeping and especially of the kitchen, even among the rich, is remarkable. The Indian or Mestiza women rule here and the customs of a thousand years ago are the customs of to-day. The tortillas, cakes made of maize, are the bread of the country. For centuries these dusky women of Mexico have ground the corn for their daily bread between two stones, the grains having first been soaked for several hours in a solution of lime water. This smoothed, dished-out stone is called a metate, an Aztec word, and the women work for hours in beating the softened grains to a fine paste. Small pieces of the dough are then worked between the hands, tossed and patted, and flattened out until very thin. After this they are thrown upon a flat, iron griddle over a charcoal fire. They are never allowed to brown and are without salt or seasoning of any kind. After becoming used to them they prove very palatable and many prefer them to the ordinary corn bread.

Frijoles, or beans, and generally black ones, are also invariably served and are eaten twice every day without intermission on the table of rich or poor. The chili, a pretty hot sort of pepper, is a favourite dish that had better be avoided by the Americans, for the ability to relish it can only be approached by degrees. Tamales are relished by the Mexican and can be found for sale in almost any of the markets. I never see tamales without thinking of the description given of them by a big Texan in his bread dialect, in answer to a question from me as the train was speeding across the mesquit prairies near San Antonio. “You take cawn meal, some hawt (heart), livah and a little peppah and you make a tamahle, suh.”

The use of sacred names or names of great personages among these people is often astonishing. The names of Porfirio Diaz, Juarez and Hidalgo are as numerous as the George Washingtons among the negroes of the south. However, when the American stumbles upon a Pius Fifth, St. John the Evangelist or even Jesus, in a dirty-face brown man clothed in rags, it seems a strange incongruity. Talk with this humble bearer of a sacred name or offer him a gratuity, and, as you depart, he will say, “Vaya usted con Dios” (go, and God be with you), in such a simple and benign manner that you almost feel as though a benediction were following you.

We are told by the early writers that the Aztecs had few stores, but that nearly all the trading was done in the markets which were found in every city, or by the great merchant princes who traversed the country with their large army of burden-bearers and retainers, compelling trade as well as seeking it. It is interesting to note the description of the market in the capital in the time of Cortez written by Bernal Diaz, one of his followers, and the historian of his expedition. He expresses his astonishment at the great crowds of people, the regularity which prevailed and the vast quantities of merchandise on display. “The articles consisted of gold, silver, jewels, feathers, mantles, chocolate, skins dressed and undressed, sandals, and great numbers of male and female slaves, some of whom were fastened by the neck, in collars, to long poles. The meat market was stocked with fowls, game and dogs. Vegetables, fruits, articles of food ready dressed, salt, bread, honey and sweet pastry made in various ways, were also sold here. Other places in the square were appointed to the sale of earthen ware, wooden household furniture such as tables and benches, firewood, pipes, sweet canes filled with tobacco mixed with liquid amber, copper axes and working tools, and wooden vessels highly painted. Numbers of women sold fish and little loaves made of a certain mud which they find in the lakes, and which resembles cheese. The entire square was enclosed in piazzas under which great quantities of grain were stored and where were also shops for various kinds of goods.”

This description would answer very well to-day except as to slaves and feathers. It is to be regretted that the beautiful feather work of that race is a lost art. The market of the capital is located but a short distance from the plaza and is an excellent place to study life. The outer portion is occupied by small shops covered with protecting piazzas but the central part is wholly occupied by the Indian merchants. During the morning hours it is so closely packed that it is almost impossible to force one’s way through the dense throng of humanity. The native, squatted on the ground on a rush mat, with another mat suspended over him for protection from the fierce sun, and his stock in trade spread before him, is a picture worth studying. Many tribes are represented, as their dress indicates, as well as the products of many different zones from the cocoanut of the hot lands to the inferior pears of the cold zone. The pottery from Guadalajara can be distinguished from that of Guadalupe or Aguas Calientes by its colour and design. Each piece might tell a history of an art passed down from father to son for countless generations, for the son usually follows the occupation of his father. They never think of changing method of manufacture or design. It is quite probable that the pottery seen in the market to-day is the same as that viewed by Cortez. Many of the vessels are curious and fantastic in form but always ornamental in decoration. When one considers that much of this pottery is made with no tools but pieces of broken glass and a horsehair, the result is a marvel. With the hair they trim the top and with the glass smooth off the rough places. The pottery market is an important one, for articles used in the kitchen and on the tables of the poorer classes are exclusively of this ware. For a small sum an entire kitchen outfit can be purchased.

There are few Jewish merchants in Mexico for the Mexican is even more persuasive in his mode of selling and his prices are fully as elastic. In purchasing native articles on different occasions I tried several dealers in order to discover whether they had a uniform bottom price. They would invariably ask at least twice as much as they were willing to accept. I found that if one would only show surprise at the price asked, the question “What will you give” would immediately follow. They were perfectly willing to get as much from you as possible but the lowest price quoted by the various dealers was almost identical. Some persons have facetiously characterized Mexico as the land of “no hay” (pronounced eye) because it is such a common answer in marketing and means “there is none.” In fact, the answer will always be “no hay” or “si, hay” (yes, I have).