we had swept by in our heedless flight, unmindful of all; my
guide scrupulously consoling himself by asserting that a government
_extraordinario_ had the the privilege to knock over everybody that
intercepted the path. In an hour we had left canals, streams, bridges,
causeways, and fertile fields of the lovely _vega_, and turning to the
right the bluff hill closed upon the scene--and this was my latest
glimpse of Mexico.

Soon leaving the main road, we branched off by narrow bridle paths, and
cross cuts of the post route: four relays, and as many fresh guides,
carried me to a place called Tepetitlan. Here the horse purveyor was a
woman, who declared, with an ireful voice and gesture, as I drew up
before her tenement, "that the blessed virgin might send her to
purgatory if she had a horse with a hoof to stand on--that I might
report her to the Alcalde or the devil, or both, or go there myself,
just as I pleased." _Que mi importa_?--what do I care? And the director
had no right to send three expresses in one week, when she had nothing
but the old grey and the mare! _Ave Maria! pues!_--so help yourself!
Cracking my whip a little savagely, I crossed the verdant slope of a
hill, and dismounted at the gate of a walled garden, having, a
dilapidated and venerable habitation within. I was decoyed thither by a
brace of buxom damsels--mother and daughter--who, perceiving my
distress, despatched an old cripple in search of beasts.

The little town had much to recommend it; the houses were very quaint
and antiquated, strewn, as they might be, upon the sides of a grassy
slope--with a crumbling stone bridge and rapid brawling river coursing
at the base. Midway between was a large old church, ivy-grown from the
ruined towers and belfry to the decayed buttresses and lintels of the
doorway; all around the front were broad flights of stone steps, leading
from the declivities of the hill, down to a level amphitheatre-like
space, which was filled with glorious old trees, creeping vines, bright
green grasses, ranges of marble benches beneath the shade, and in the
midst, a thread of a rill, plashing about the ruins of what once had
been the bowl of a large fountain.

Besides the picturesque charms of the village, I was recompensed for two
hours delay, by the frolicsome Senoras, at whose estate I had tarried.
They very obligingly prepared me a nice little repast of frijoles--fried
eggs and tortillas--assisted me to drink a flask of bordeaux,