n earthquake followed by a mighty
tidal wave that only left two persons alive. The very site of the city
sunk beneath the waves of the ocean and never came up, the present city
being built upon a new site entirely.

The short ride from Callao to Lima, the capital city, is interesting.
Here one is introduced to the famous "mud fence," as the fences are all
made of mud. Little patches of ground are tilled and bananas, pears,
oranges, and all kinds of fruit and vegetables as well as corn and other
grain grow in abundance. Everything looks ancient. The ground is plowed
by oxen hitched to a wooden stick. The mud huts and houses of the
farmers are almost as bare of furniture as a hen coop and almost as
dirty. It hardly seems possible that people so near the port as well as
the capital city could be so far behind the times.

The railroad runs along the Rimac river, but this is nearly dry much of
the time, the water being used for irrigating purposes. Everything
smells bad and the people are even dirtier than in Chile. Of course,
there are some beautiful spots in the country and plazas in the cities,
but all this gush about the beauty and loveliness of things in general
makes one tired.

I saw more turkey buzzards and vultures in ten minutes in the city of
Lima than I ever saw before all put together. At the slaughter house one
can see a stream of blood running in the open soil and I suppose the
offals are dumped out for the vultures to devour. The Rockefeller
Foundation has set apart twenty-five million dollars, so I understand,
to be spent in twenty-five Peruvian cities for the purpose of cleaning
them up and providing sanitary systems for them. The leaders of this
foundation have certainly found an appropriate place to spend money. I
have seen four or five of the cities that are to benefit by this
appropriation and they all sure do need cleaning up.

In Lima, of course, I went to the great cathedral. Everybody does this
for it is about the most outstanding thing to be seen. It is said to be
the largest cathedral in South America. The corner stone was laid by the
great Pizarro himself in 1535. His bones are in the cathedral now. I saw
them. They are in a coffin the side of which is made of glass. The very
holes that were made in the bones when they tortured him can be seen.
The guide declared that such is the case and of course he would not yarn
to a stranger in a sacred church.

The houses in Lima are, as a rule, only o