arse serapas serves to conceal all their
peccadillos. The Spectator tells us, that in the days of Charles II, a
rascal of any eminence could not be found under forty. In Mazatlan they
were more precocious. Eating, sleeping and drinking, they could easily
dispense with, for a handful of beans and the open air was an economical
mode of life, and cost little or nothing: but a few rials were
absolutely indispensable to game with on feast days; and as the Leperos,
as a body, are not fond of work, they exercised their ingenuity in
appropriating property of others. I had escaped their depredations so
long, that I fancied there was nothing worth filching in my possession,
or innocently supposed there was some kind of freemasonry established
between us. However, I was soon undeceived. One morning, according to
custom, Miss Rita made her usual call, attended by some gay friends, and
all attired in their prettiest robes and ribosas:--"Would I read an
anonymous billet in verse?" _Si Senorita_. "You are appointed _Teniente
de la tripa_,"--a ball given annually by the butchers. "Then, would I
meet her at the grand fandango in the marisma?" Of course. "_Pues hasta
la noche amigo mio!_" and away they tripped down the hill in high glee.
In the evening after dinner at the cottage, in company with Senor
Molinero, we strolled to the fields. A large marquee had been erected in
the middle of the open space, and around were smaller affairs, with
numerous booths, sparkling with lights, music and merriment. It was not
a very select affair, and I took the precaution to loosen my sword in
its sheath. Presently we entered into the spirit of the frolic, and were
soon hand in hand with leperos and their sweethearts--sipping from every
cup--whirling away in waltzes--dancing to the quick _jarabie_, and
making ourselves particularly ridiculous when, presto! some expert thief
snatched my sword blade from the scabbard. Search was instantly made,
but the successful lepero made good his prize, and escaped. The girls
sympathized with me, and poor Rita cried, and, regardless of being
vice-queen of the ball, insisted upon leaving--so bounding up before me
on horseback, I landed her at her little cottage. The night was not half
spent, so turning rein, I indulged my friend Senor Carbia with a hasty
visit--not at all to his satisfaction, for the fickle goddess smiled
upon me; but as a slight check to this good fortune, another watchful
person had stolen a valuable