ndscape
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 peons. 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 sil
|