insignificant has its own place, not to be substituted by any other. Evidences of this appear in the performance of the simplest duty. Let them begin to make a fire, and the first movement is to make the sign of the cross in the air before the range; or if about to cook any such articles as tortillas, many of them, as preliminary, make the cross and utter a few words of prayer. The moon has much to do with these fancies, and many of their individual failings are laid to the account of that luminary.
These are carried with humorous effect into the smallest minutiæ of household labors. In killing fowls, they pull the head off, then make the sign of the cross with the neck on the ground, and laying the chicken on the place, declare it cannot jump about; but I noticed they always held it firmly on the cross.
Many of them keep a light burning both day and night in their houses. In the majority of instances, the light is merely a wax taper placed in a glass half filled with water, with a little oil on the top. Beside the taper a cross is fixed.
On one occasion, I went into a tortilla establishment where were eight or ten women grinding corn, and seeing the light I asked the patrona why she kept this light burning.
"Because," she answered, "I want God and all his saints to keep this house from evil spirits. We have to work very hard all day, and when this light is burning they dare not come near."
"Do you keep it burning always?" said I.
"Yes, always; without it we would be in total darkness." Then, turning to me, she asked:
"Have you not God and saints in your country?"
"Yes; but we believe that God will protect us without the light, and we do not depend on the saints;" which ended the colloquy.
I have been at times much impressed with the seriousness and sentiment so evidently underlying these little superstitious actions. The old tamalera, the music of whose grito appears in these pages, came to our house the evening I left the capital. She released her
