A Mexican Watering Place.—Delightful Climate.—Aguas Calientes.—Young Señoritas.—Local City Scenes.—Convicts.—Churches.—A Mummified Monk.—Punishment is Swift and Sure.—Hot Springs.—Bathing in Public.—Caged Songsters.—“Antiquities.”—Delicious Fruits.—Market Scenes.—San Luis Potosi.—The Public Buildings.—City of Leon.—A Beautiful Plaza.—Local Manufactories.—Home Industries of Leon.— The City of Silao.—Defective Agriculture.—Objection to Machinery. —Fierce Sand Storm.

Aguas Calientes (hot waters) is the capital of a small state of the same name, and is a very strongly individualized city, containing something less than twenty-five thousand inhabitants. The town is handsomely laid out with great regularity, having a number of fine stone buildings, luxuriant gardens, and beautiful public squares. It is situated seventy-five miles south of Zacatecas, on the trunk line of the Mexican Central Railroad. This route brings us down to the plain through rugged steeps and sharp grades, near to the famous salt and soda lakes, where the Rio Brazos Santiago is crossed. Though we say that Aguas Calientes is on a plain, yet the town is over six thousand feet above sea level, and is well situated for business growth in a fertile region where three main thoroughfares already centre. It is just three hundred and sixty-four miles northwest of the city of Mexico. The Plaza des Armas, with its fine monumental column and its refreshing fountain, as well as several other public gardens of the city, are worthy of special mention for their striking floral beauty, their display of graceful palms and various other tropical trees. It seemed as though it must be perpetual spring here, and that every tree and bush was in bloom. The Mexican flora cannot be surpassed for depth of rich coloring. Sweet peas, camellias, poppies, and pansies abound, while oleanders grow to the height of elm trees, and are covered with a profusion of scarlet and white flowers. The day was very soft, sunny, and genial, when we wandered over the ancient place; all the treetops lay asleep, and there was scarcely a breath of air stirring. Every sight and every sound had the charm of novelty. Groups of young senoritas strolled leisurely about the town; their classic profiles, large gazelle-like eyes, rosy lips, delicate hands and feet, together with their shapely forms, indicated their mingled Spanish and Indian origin. The many sonorous bells of the churches kept up a continuous peal at special morning and evening hours. In spite of the half-incongruous notes of these different metallic voices floating together on the atmosphere, there was a sense of harmony in the aggregate of sound, which recalled the more musical chimes one hears on the shores of the Mediterranean. Mexican churches are not supplied with chimes, though each steeple has at least a half dozen, and often as many as a score, of costly bells.

Here and there the town shows unmistakable tokens of age, which is but reasonable, as it was founded in 1520. The variety of colors used upon the façades of the low adobe houses produces a pleasing effect. The love of the Aztec race for warm, bright colors is seen everywhere. The Garden of San Marcos, one of many open public squares, forms a wilderness of foliage and flowers, where the oleanders are thirty feet in height, shading lilies, roses, and pansies, with a low-growing species of mignonette as fragrant as violets, our admiration for which was shared by a score of glittering humming-birds. Here too the jasmine, with its tiny variegated flowers, flourished by the side of hydrangeas full of snow-flake bloom, while orange blossoms made the air heavy with their odorous breath. Close to this garden is the bull ring, opposite to which gangs of convicts are seen sweeping the streets under the supervision of a military guard. Though these men are unchained, they make no attempt to escape, as the guards under such circumstances have a habit of promptly shooting a prisoner dead upon the spot; no one takes the trouble to inquire into the summary proceeding, and it would do no good if he did. There is no sickly sentimentality expended upon highwaymen, garroters, or murderers in Mexico. If a man commits a crime, he is made to pay the penalty for it, no matter what his position may be. There is no pardoning out of prison here, so that the criminal may have a second chance to outrage the rights of the community. If a trusted individual steals the property of widows and orphans and runs away, he must stay away, for if he comes back he will surely be shot. All things considered, we believe this certainty of punishment is the restraining force with many men of weak principles. Since the order to shoot all highwaymen as soon as taken was promulgated, brigandage has almost entirely disappeared in Mexico, though up to that time it was of daily occurrence in some parts of the country.

There are several churches in Aguas Calientes which are well worth visiting, some of which contain fine old paintings, though they are mostly hung in a very poor light. There is an unmistakable atmosphere of antiquity within these walls, “mellowed by scutcheoned panes in cloisters old.” The church facing the Plaza Mayor has a remarkable bell, celebrated for its fine tones; and when this sounded for vespers, Millet’s Angelus was instantly recalled, the poor péons, no matter how engaged, piously uncovering their heads and bowing with folded hands while their lips moved in prayer. We were told of the great cost of this bell, which is said to contain half a ton of silver; but this is doubtless an exaggerated story framed to tickle a stranger’s ear, since if over a certain moderate percentage of silver is employed in the casting, the true melody of the bell is destroyed. A queer object is shown the visitor for a trifling fee, in the crypt of the church of San Diego, being the remains of a mummified or desiccated monk, sitting among a mass of skulls, rib and thigh bones, once belonging to human beings. The moral of this exhibition seemed a little too far-fetched to be interesting, and our small party hastened away with a sense of disgust.

The hot springs from which the state and city take their name are situated a couple of miles east of the town, at the end of a delightful alameda. A small canal borders this roadway, which is liberally supplied with water from the thermal springs, and scores of the populace may be seen washing clothing on its edge at nearly any hour of the day, as well as bathing therein, men and women together, with a decided heedlessness of the conventionalities. The Maoris of New Zealand could not show more utter disregard for a state of nudity than was exhibited by one group of natives whom we saw. The admirable climate, the hot springs, the beautiful gardens, vineyards, and abundant fruits, render this place thoroughly attractive, notwithstanding that so large a portion consists of adobe houses of only one story in height. These are often made inviting by their neat surroundings and by being frescoed in bright colors inside and out. One or two native birds in gayest colors usually hang beside the open doors, in a home-made cage of dried rushes, singing as gayly as those confined in more costly and gilded prisons. Just opposite the public baths was one of these domesticated pets of the mocking-bird species, who was remarkably accomplished. He was never silent, but was constantly and successfully struggling to imitate every peculiar sound which he heard. He broke down, however, ignominiously in his attempts with the tramway fish-horns. They were too much for him. This bird was of soft ash color, with a long, graceful set of tail-feathers, and kept himself in most presentable order, notwithstanding his narrow quarters in a home-made cage. It was in vain that we tried to purchase the creature. Either the Indian woman had not the right to sell him, or she prized the bird too highly to part with him at any price. As we came away from the low adobe cabin, the bird was mewing in imitation of another domestic pet which belonged to the same woman.

Comparatively few humble dwellings have glass in the windows, but nearly all have these openings barred with iron in more or less ornamental styles. There are a few central situations where two-story houses prevail. Besides the churches, there are the governor’s palace, the casa municipal, and the stores and dwelling-houses which surround the Plaza Mayor, the latter having open arcades, or portales, beneath the first story. People come from various parts of Mexico to enjoy the baths of Aguas Calientes, and one sees many strangers about the town. The place has, in fact, been the resort of people from various sections of the country from time immemorial, on account of the presumed advantages to be derived from the hot springs. Mineral waters, hot and cold, abound on the table-land of Mexico.

It is said that by digging almost anywhere in this neighborhood, one can exhume pottery and other articles concerning whose manufacture there is a profound mystery, the shapes and style of finish being quite different from what is now produced. These articles are reputed to antedate the Toltec period, though the natives, finding that the antique shapes are most popular with European and American tourists, imitate them very closely. When “antiquities” are offered to one in a foreign country, he should be very wary in purchasing, as the artificial manufacture of them is fully up to the demand. The writer once saw an article sold at Cairo as an antique for ten pounds sterling which was afterwards proved, by an unmistakable mark, to have been made in Birmingham, England. So Aztec and Toltec remains are produced to any extent in the city of Mexico; and the enterprising English manufacturer, we were told, has even invaded Yucatan with his “antique” wares.

Fruit is abundant, cheap, and delicious in the market-place of Aguas Calientes. Fifty oranges were offered to us for a quarter of a dollar, or two for a penny. Sunday is the principal market-day, when the country people for miles around bring in fruit, vegetables, flowers, pottery, and home-woven articles for sale. Men and women, sitting on the ground, patiently wait for hours to make trifling sales, the profit on which cannot exceed a few pennies, and often the poor creatures sell little or nothing. The principal market is a permanent building, occupying a whole block, or square. The area about which it is built is open in the centre; that is, without covering. Here a motley group displayed baskets, fruits, flowers, candies, pulque, boots, shoes, and sandals. White onions mingled with red tomatoes and pineapples formed the apex to a pyramid of oranges, bananas, lemons, pomegranates, all arranged so as to present attractive colors and forms, being often decked with flowers. Green sugar-cane, cut in available lengths, was rapidly consumed by young Mexico, and gay young girls indulged in dulces (sweets). Hundreds of patient donkeys, without harness of any sort, or even a rope about their necks, stood demurely awaiting their hour of service. Beggars are plenty, but few persons were seen really intoxicated, notwithstanding that pulque is cheap and muscal very potent. Red, blue, brown, and striped rebosas flitted before the eyes, worn by the restless crowd, while occasionally one saw a lady of the upper class, attended by her maid in gaudy colors, herself clad in the dark, conventional Spanish style, her black hair, covered with a lace veil of the same hue, held in place by a square-topped shell comb.

The public bathhouse, near the railroad depot, is remarkable for spaciousness and for the excellence of the general arrangements. It is built of a conglomerate of cobble-stones, bricks, and mortar, and might be a bit out of the environs of Rome. In the central open area of these baths is a choice garden full of blooming flowers and tropical trees. Oleanders, fleurs-de-lis, flowering geraniums, peach blossoms, scarlet poppies mingling with white, beside beds of pansies and violets, delighted the eye and filled the air with perfume. The surroundings and conveniences were more Oriental than Mexican, inviting the stranger to bathe by the extraordinary facilities offered to him, and captivating the senses by beauty and fragrance. There is a spacious swimming-bath within the walls, beside the single bathrooms, in both of which the water is kept at a delightful temperature. The luxury of these baths, after a long, dusty ride over Mexican roads, can hardly be imagined by those who have not enjoyed it. In the vicinity of the Plaza Mayor, ice-cream was hawked and sold by itinerant venders. We were told of a mysterious method of producing ice, which is employed here during the night, by means of putting water in the hollowed stalk of the maguey or agave plant, but we do not clearly understand the process. The volatile oil of the century plant is said to evaporate so rapidly as to freeze the water deposited in it. At any rate, the natives have some process by which they produce ice in this tropical clime; but whether it is by aid of the maguey plant, from which comes the pulque, or by some other means, we cannot say authoritatively. In the cities and on the Texan border, ice is largely manufactured by chemical process aided by machinery, a means of supply well known in all countries where natural ice is not formed by continued low temperature.

San Luis Potosi is situated about one hundred miles to the eastward of Aguas Calientes, on the branch road connecting the main trunk of the Mexican Central with Tampico on the Gulf. It is the capital of the State of San Luis Potosi, and has, according to estimate, over forty thousand inhabitants. The city contains many fine buildings, the most notable among them being the state capitol, the business exchange, the state museum, the mint, and the public library. This last-named contains between seventy and eighty thousand volumes. There is here a larger proportion of two-story buildings than is seen in either Saltillo or Monterey. There are also a college, a hospital, and a theatre. It has several plazas and many churches. The cathedral is quite modern, having been erected within the last forty years; it faces the Plaza Mayor, where there is a bronze statue of the patriot Hidalgo. We are here fully six thousand feet above the sea level, in a wholesome locality, which, it is claimed, possesses the most equable climate in Mexico, the temperature never reaching freezing-point, and rarely being uncomfortably warm. There are several fine old churches in San Luis Potosi, containing some admirable oil paintings by Vallejo, Tresguerras, and others of less fame. The city is three hundred and sixty miles north of the national capital, and is destined, with the opening of the railroad to Tampico, which has so recently taken place, to grow rapidly. Its tramway, or horse-car, service is particularly well managed, and facilitates all sorts of transportation in and about the city. In the Sierra near at hand are the famous silver mines known as Cerro del Potosi, which are so rich in the deposit of argentiferous ore that it is named after the mines of Potosi in Peru. There are valuable salt mines existing in this State of San Luis Potosi, at Penon Blanco. The city has always been noted as a military centre, and a large number of the regular army are stationed here. When Santa Anna returned from exile, at the beginning of the war with this country, in 1846, it was here that he concentrated his forces. When defeated by General Taylor at Buena Vista, he marched back to San Luis Potosi with the remnant of his thoroughly demoralized army, where he again established his headquarters. On the Sabbath, as in other Mexican cities, the grand market of the week takes place, when cock-fighting, marketing, praying, and bull-fighting are strangely mixed.

About a hundred miles south of Aguas Calientes we reach the important manufacturing city of Leon, State of Guanajuato, a thrifty, enterprising capital, containing over ninety thousand inhabitants. It is considered the third largest and most important city of the republic. We have now come eight hundred and thirty miles since leaving the International Bridge, by which we entered Mexican territory at Pedras Negras, and find ourselves in the midst of a fertile, well-watered plain, intersected by the small river Turbio, two hundred and sixty miles northwest of the city of Mexico. Rich grazing fields are spread broadcast, many of which exhibit the deep, beautiful green of the alfalfa, or Mexican clover, which is fed in a fresh-cut condition to favored cattle, but not to burros, poor creatures! They feed themselves on what they can pick up by the roadside, on the refuse vegetables thrown away in the city markets, on straw; in short, on almost anything. There is a theory that they will live on empty fruit tins, broken glass bottles, and sardine boxes; but we are not prepared to indorse that. The fields and small domestic gardens hereabouts are often hedged by tall, pole-like cacti of the species called the organ cactus, from its peculiar resemblance to the pipes of an organ. This forms a prevailing picture in the wild landscape of southern Mexico. Leon is nearly six thousand feet above the sea.

As the railroad depot is a mile from the city proper,—a characteristic of transportation facilities which applies to all Mexican capitals,—we reach the plaza of Leon by tramway. The place has all the usual belongings of a Spanish town, though it contains no buildings of special interest. The plaza, the market-place, and the cathedral are each worthy of note. The first-named has a large, refreshing fountain in its centre, whose music cheers the senses when oppressed by tropical heat. The plaza is also shaded by thick clusters of ornamental trees. There was a grand annual fair held here before the days of railroads in Mexico, which was an occasion attracting people from all the commercial centres of the country. While talking to a local merchant he said to us: “Certain circumscribed interests were at first unfavorably affected by the establishment of the railroad, and people grumbled accordingly; but we have come to see that after all it is for the universal good to have this prompt means of transportation. It was the same,” he continued, “as regards the tramway; but we could not do without that convenience now.”

On one side of the plaza is the governor’s palace, a long, plain, two-story building of composite material,—stone, sun-dried bricks, and mortar, colored white. On the other three sides is a line of two-story buildings, beneath which is a continuous block of portales, or arches, crowded with shops and booths; the first story of these houses being thus devoted to trade, the second to dwellings. The general effect of this large business square, with the deep greenery of the plaza in the centre, is extremely attractive. Strolling about it in the intense sunshine are many beggars and grandees; women in bright-colored rebosas; others in rags which do not half cover their nakedness; fair senoritas with tall, red-heeled boots pointed at the toes, and poor girls with bare limbs and feet; cripples and athletes; beauty and deformity; plethoric priests and cadaverous péons. Now a horseman in theatrical costume, sword and pistol by his side, and huge silver spurs on his heels, seated on a small but beautifully formed Andalusian horse, passes swiftly by, and now a score of charcoal-laden donkeys, driven by an Indian larger than the animal he bestrides. All the men who can afford it wear broad-brimmed sombreros richly ornamented with gold and silver braid; the poorest, though otherwise but half clad, and with bare limbs, have a substitute for the sombrero in straw or some cheap material. The broader the brim and the taller the crown, the more they are admired. It is a busy, ever-shifting scene presented by the Plaza Mayor of Leon, such as one may look upon only south of the Rio Grande.

The paseo is a remarkably fine, tree-embowered avenue, a sort of miniature Champs Elysees, flanked by well-cultivated fields and gardens, forming the beginning of the road which leads to Silao. Besides the Plaza Mayor and the paseo, there are a dozen minor plazas (plazuelas) in Leon, all more or less attractive. On the road leading to Lagos, not far from the city, there are hot mineral springs much esteemed and much used for bathing. One can go anywhere in and about Leon by tramway as easily as in Boston or New York. The specialty of the city is its various manufactories of leather goods, but particularly saddles, boots, and shoes, together with leather sandals, such as are worn by the common people who do not go barefooted,—though the fact is nine tenths of them do go barefooted. Another special product of Leon is blue and striped rebosas, so universally worn by the women of the humbler class.

It is a peculiarity in Mexico that a certain branch of manufacture is confined in a great measure to one place, other business localities respecting this partial monopoly by devoting themselves to other productions. Thus the industry of Leon is developed in tanning leather, and the making of boots, shoes, saddlery, and rebosas; Salamanca is noted for its buckskin garments and gloves; Irapuato is devoted to raising strawberries, and supplies half the republic with this delicious fruit; Queretaro is famous for the opals it ships from its unique mines; Lerdo enriches itself by the cotton which it sends to market; Celaya, in the valley of the Laja, is known all over Mexico for the production of fine dulces (sweets, or confectionery) made from milk and sugar; from Puebla come the elegant and profitable onyx ornaments so much prized at home and abroad; Aguas Calientes is famous as an agricultural centre, supplying the markets of the country with corn and beans; from Orizaba and Cordova come coffee, sugar, and delicious tropical fruits; Chihuahua raises horses and cattle for the home market and for exportation; Guadalajara is unrivaled for the production of pottery and crockery ware, Zacatecas and Guanajuato for the mining of silver; and so the list might be extended, showing the native resources of the country and the concentration of special industries.

Many of the dwellings—most of them, indeed—are but one story in height, in the city proper, though often constructed of stone; but in the suburbs they are altogether of one story and built of adobe. Some of the hedges are both striking and effective, consisting of the prickly-pear cactus, which presents an impenetrable barrier to man or beast. The natives prepare a dish of green salad from the tender leaves of the cactus, as we do from dandelions and lettuce, which satisfies a certain appetite, and no doubt contains considerable nourishment. There are several quite ancient churches, a cathedral, and two theatres in Leon. Of the latter, that which attracted us most might have passed for a floral conservatory. It was a stone edifice, with a broad vestibule full of flowers, having a fountain in the centre and a dome covered with glass. The cathedral, under the ascribed patronage of “Our Lady of Light,” makes up for its shortcomings in the architecture of its lower portions by a fine dome and two lofty towers, these last of quite modern construction, having been completed so late as 1878. The oldest church in the city is La Soledad, which dates back three hundred and fifty years. Two others, San Juan de Dios and San Felipe Neri, are of more than passing interest to the traveler.

It was observed, in nearly all the dwellings which were entered, that the women as well as the men were engaged with hand-looms, weaving rebosas or serapes. In many instances children were thus employed, of such tender age that it was surprising to see the excellence of the work which they produced. These humble interiors present notable pictures of respectability, industry, and thrift. In the market-place, flowers, mostly beautiful roses of white and red varieties, were sold by the score for a five-cent piece, and lovely bouquets, containing artistic combinations of color and great variety of species, were offered for ten cents each. The plains in the environs of Leon are beautified by some magnificent groves of trees, and exhibit great fertility of soil.

After passing through miles of dreary territory which produced little save an abnormal growth of cacti of several species, exhibiting great variety in shape and the color of its blossoms, which were sometimes white, but oftener red or yellow, twenty miles southeast of Leon and two hundred and thirty-eight north of the national capital, we reach the small city of Silao, in the State of Guanajuato, which has a population of about fifteen thousand. This is an agricultural district, six thousand feet above the level of the sea, where irrigation is absolutely necessary, and where it is freely applied, but by hand power, the water being raised from the ditches by means of buckets. Under this treatment the soil is so fertile as to yield two crops of wheat and maize annually, besides an abundance of other staples. The eyes of the traveler are delighted, on approaching Silao, by the view of far-reaching fields of waving grain, giving full promise of a rich harvest near at hand. We were told that these fields were flooded twice during the growing of a crop: first, early in January, when the young plants are two or three inches high, and again soon after the first of March, just before the ear is about to develop itself. Sometimes, as is done in Egypt, the fields are inundated before sowing. Some of the richest soil for wheat-growing in all Mexico lies between San Juan del Rio and Leon. The idea of a rotation of crops, the advantages of which the intelligent American farmer so well understands, does not seem yet to have dawned upon the Mexican cultivator of the soil. He goes on year after year extracting the same chemicals from the earth, without using fertilizers at all, and planting the same seed in the same fields. By no happy accident does he substitute corn for oats, or wheat for either. He never thinks of giving his grain field a breathing spell by planting it with potatoes or any other root crop, and substituting a different style of cultivation. In and about the town are some large and admirably managed gardens of fruits and flowers. One was hardly prepared, before coming hither, to accord to the Spanish character so much of appreciation and such delicacy of taste as are revealed through the almost universal cultivation of flowers in Mexico, wherever circumstances will admit of it. Silao is just fifteen miles from Guanajuato, the capital of the state, with which it is connected by railway.

The rainfall is comparatively very slight on the entire Mexican plateau, limited, in fact, to two or three months in the year, which renders irrigation a universal necessity to insure success in farming; but the means employed for the purpose, as we have seen, are singularly primitive. The same objection that limited intelligence evinces everywhere to the introduction of labor-saving machinery is exhibited here in Mexico. When the author was at the Lakes of Killarney, a few years since, and saw the hotel employees cutting grass upon the broad lawn with a sickle or reaping-hook, he suggested to the landlord that an American lawn-mower should be used, whereby one man could do the job quicker and in better shape than twenty men could do by this primitive mode. “If I were to introduce an American lawn-mower on to this place,” said the landlord, “the laborers would burn my house down at once!” So when the air-brakes were introduced on the National Railroad in Mexico, thus not only adding unquestionably to the safety of the cars, but decreasing the necessity for so many train hands, the laborers cut and destroyed the brakes. Through persistent determination on the part of the officers of the road, the air-brake is now in use by the Mexican Central corporation, from the Rio Grande to the capital; but the National line between the capital and Vera Cruz is not able to make use of this greater safeguard and economical air-brake, because a lot of stupid, ignorant brakemen object!

Silao is of little commercial importance, but it has the over-abundance of churches always to be found in Spanish towns of its size, none of which, in this instance, are any way remarkable. But the place is picturesque and interesting; one would not like to have missed it. The church of Santiago has a tall, graceful, and slender spire, sure to attract an observant eye, recalling the pinnacle of St. Peter and St. Paul in the capital of Russia. We have said Silao is of little commercial importance, but there are six or eight flour-mills, which seem to be the nucleus about which the principal business interests centre. The place was founded more than three centuries ago, and impresses one with an atmosphere of crumbling antiquity which somehow is pretty sure to challenge respect. “Time consecrates,” says Schiller, “and what is gray with age becomes religion.”

Seeing a number of Indian men and women relieving themselves from heavy burdens brought into the market, we were surprised to note the weight which these trained natives could carry. On inquiry it was found that some of them had come over mountainous roads a distance of twenty miles and more, each bearing upon his or her back a weight in produce of various sorts which must have been near to a hundred and fifty pounds. As profit on all their chickens, eggs, vegetables, pottery, and fruit, they could hardly average more than a dollar to each individual. How simple and circumscribed must be the necessities of a people who can sustain themselves upon such earnings! When on the road, these Indians have a peculiarly rapid gait, a sort of dog-trot, so to speak, which they will keep up for hours at a time while carrying their heavy burdens. Though they all speak Spanish, yet each tribe or section of country seems to have a dialect of its own, which is used exclusively among its people. Scientists tell us that the various languages and dialects spoken by the Indian race of Mexico in the several parts of the republic number over one hundred; there are sixty which are known to have become extinct.

In contradistinction to the theories of many careful observers, scientists have pointed to the fact that in all of these native tongues not one word can be found which gives indication of Asiatic origin.

While at Silao a Mexican sand-spout, a visitant which is very liable to appear on the open plains during the dry season, struck in our immediate vicinity, followed by a fierce dust-storm, which lasted for about an hour, darkening the atmosphere to a night-hue for miles around, and covering every exposed article or person with a thick layer of fine sand. It was necessary promptly to close all doors and windows. Indeed, a person could more easily face a furious hail-storm, than one of these dry gales; men and animals alike sought shelter from its blinding fierceness. So men, horses, and camels, composing the caravans which cross the desert of Sahara, when struck by a sand-storm, are obliged to throw themselves flat upon the ground, and there remain until it has exhausted its fury. The condition of the soil at Silao may be easily imagined when it is remembered that rain had not fallen here for seven months. It was late in March, but the rainy season does not begin until about the last of May. In this region people do not speak of summer and winter, but of the dry and the rainy seasons, the former being reckoned from November to May, and the latter from June to October. It should not be understood that it rains constantly in the wet season. The rain falls generally in pleasant showers, afternoons and nights, leaving the mornings and forenoons bright, clear, and comfortable. It is really the pleasantest season of the year on the Mexican plateau.