when they appeared busy as ever; and I was an eye-witness
to a little incident, wherein a centavo's worth of sugar was the cause
of a fatal stab. A lepero was purchasing a bit of chocolate--it fell in
the dirt, when another, probably thinking it a lawful prize, seized it,
and took a large bite; whereupon the lawful owner swung a mass of heavy
steel spurs attached to his wrist, jingling with some force, on the
offender's head. In a second down dropped the spurs, and serapas were
wound round the left arms. With low, deep curses and flashing eyes,
their knives gleamed in the light; the spectators cleared a ring, and to
work they went. I sprang upon a stone pillar, to be out of harm's way,
and thus had a clear view of the fray. Their blades were very unequally
matched: one was at least eight inches, and the other not half that
measurement; but both appeared adepts at the game,--watching each other
like wild cats, ready for a spring--moving cautiously to and fro, making
feints by the shielded arm, or stamp of the foot, for a minute or two;
when, quick as a flash, I saw two rapid passes made by both: blood
spirted from an ugly wound in the spur-vender's throat, but at the same
moment his short weapon scaled the doom of his antagonist, and he lay
stretched upon the ground, as lifeless as the bloody steel that struck
him. I glanced at the wounds after the affair had terminated, and found
the knife had been plunged twice directly in the region of the heart.
There was no effort or attempt made by the beholders to arrest the
parties; and the survivor caught up his spurs--a bystander quickly
folded a handsome kerchief to his neck--and threading the crowd he was
soon out of sight. The corpse was laid upon a liquor-stand, with a delf
platter upon the breast.

My letter was to apparently the mercantile nabob of Leon, Don Miguel
Obregon. He had a long range of _tiendas_, with a handsome dwelling
filling a large space, facing the square. He received me civilly--had
places taken in the diligence, which fortunately left the following
morning--and leaving my horse-trappings in his charge, I engaged a
jaunty young valet, who looked far more respectable than his new master.
He was dressed in blue velvet slashed trowsers, silver buttons thick as
peas, embroidered shirt, with a glazed sombrero and silver band. Juan
conducted me to a meson, which, like all other native inns in the
republic of Mexico, has two large enclosures, or court yards: the