me of them was no less remarkable.
Here might be seen a gigantic _tenatero_, or porter, in a sergeant's
jacket, and with the enormous cocked hat of a Spanish general upon his
head, a globe and sceptre in one hand, in the other a pasteboard cross,
strutting proudly about in the character of the Redeemer of Atolnico;[7]
while around him a party of Indians, Zambos, and Metises, metamorphosed
into Apostles, Pharisees, and Jewish women, performed dances of very
questionable propriety in honour of their divine master. In another
place, Adam and Eve were incessantly driven out of Paradise by an angel
with a flaming sword--the three figures resembling very much the same
persons, as they used to be represented in the halfpenny woodcuts of the
past century. Beside them, _Dios el Padre_ led off a dance to the sound
of a cracked guitar, which St Cecilia was twanging as an accompaniment
to the nasal melody of the gangaso;[8] and a little further on, the
child Jesus, mounted on a jackass, was flying into Egypt, and squirting,
as he went, streams of water into the open windows of houses, and into
the faces of the passers-by. Mingled with the mummers were crowds of
loathsome _leperos_; and again, amongst these might be seen numerous
groups of perfumed dandies and elegantly dressed ladies, who contrasted
with the throng of Indians as swamp-lilies do with the filth and
corruption of a pestilential marsh. In spite of the broad sunlight,
rockets were going off on all sides, to the great amusement of the
Indians, who burst out into screams of wild delight each time that one
of the fiery missiles caused alarm and confusion amongst the gaily
attired dames who thronged the balconies, and gazed down from their
windows upon the motley scene. The contrast of all this movement and
uproar with the silence and solitude that had reigned so few moments
before, was startling. It was as if the earth had suddenly opened and
vomited forth the thousands of Mulattoes and Zambos, Indians, Metises,
and Creoles,[9] that now sang, danced, chattered, screamed, and
shouted--doing their utmost worthily to play their part in the
time-honored saturnalia of the Romish church.

Differing from the custom of more refiled, although perhaps not more
enlightened, countries, only a very few of the numerous parties of
maskers seemed to aim, by their costume or action, at a satire on the
follies, foibles, or occurrences of the times. Now and then, however, an
exception was to