ent by the savage title of _El tigre del norte_. The Tiger,
upon the claims of national relationship, applied for the office of
collector to the port, but not being successful, he deigned to accept
the high position of forage master to the troop, but whether owing to
his prompt method of settling accounts, or the sphere not being
sufficiently enlarged for his abilities, he threw up the commission in
disgust, declaring his countrymen were the "ungratefullest people in the
world," and again devoted his talents to dress, love, monte, and the
arena. The last accounts of Bill, he was starring it away like a planet
in the interior of Chili. May bright dollars attend thee, Bill, in
whatsoever portion of the globe thy destiny directs thee.

Added to these public _divertmientos_, there were the _sociedads_, where
the necessary aliment of Mexican existence was in constant operation.
This was monte--our usual resort was that of the gran sociedad,
conducted by Don Manuel Carbia;--he was a diminutive old Spaniard, very
shrewd and intelligent, and among his numerous occupations was that of a
proprietor of launches, keeper of an almacen of ship chandlery on the
Mole, divers pulperias, billiard-tables, restaurateur, and pawnbroker in
general. Senor Carbo, as our beloved Colonel Jacobus called him, was
never seen without a cigar between his teeth; it acted as a kind of
safety valve to his vital organs, and it was strongly surmised that if
he ever discontinued, for an interval of five minutes, he would
inevitably choke to death. Seated behind the long green baize-covered
table, with his implements of cards and dollars around him, the very
chink of the coin lighted up his dark visage, like to a fresh cigar. He
merely played for amusement--so he said--and although he amused himself
considerably at our expense, yet we had no grounds for just complaint;
he played, _bueno como caballero_--fair and above board,--and if we lost
our cash, it was in striving to win his. Once if my memory serves me
aright, when mounted on the _caballo_--the picture of a horse on Spanish
cards--I kicked Don Manuel so severely, that his teeth chattered like a
pair of castanets--but this did not often occur.

There was another odd character, who kept a _casa de bebida_, near the
Cuartel, where the officers sometimes touched in passing. No one knew
what nation claimed him as a subject--he was a fat mottled-visaged
Boniface, whom the Mexicans--as they always nick-name