and crime. Is it wonderful, in a city with an immense proportion of its inhabitants of such a class, (hopeless in the present and the future,) that there are murderers and robbers?
*******
In the Indian population which pours into the Capital from the lakes, I must say that there is apparently more worth and character. You see them lolling about in their boats on the canals, and passing and repassing in their canoes, plying between the city and Chalco and Tezcoco. It is a beautiful sight to behold these tiny vessels skim like floating gardens to the quays in the morning, laden to the water's edge with the fruits, flowers and vegetables, that hide the skiff that bears them.
The old houses in this neighborhood, rising out of the canals, the sluggish waters, and the dark multitude of the better classes in fanciful dresses, remind one strongly of Venice.
Skirting the canal, and leading to the plain which adjoins the Chenanpas, or former floating gardens, is the Paseo de la Viga, a public drive frequented by the beau monde, both in coach and on horseback, during the season of Lent. Scarcely an afternoon passes, at that period of the year, that the observer will not find the canal covered with gay boat-loads of Indians, passing homeward from market, dancing, singing, laughing, strumming the guitar, and crowned with wreaths of poppies. I do not know the origin of the custom of wearing this forgetful flower; but it is both a healthier and more poetic oblivion than that resorted to by many folks in other lands, after a day of toil.
Turning once, more westward, we again reach the great square.
As we pass the front of the National Palace, from out of its main portal dash fifty gayly-caparisoned huzzars, followed by a coach richly decked with crimson velvet and gold, drawn by four white horses and driven by a Yankee coachman. Behind this dash fifty more huzzars, while at the side of the coach, six aid-de-camps rein in their mettlesome chargers. There is but one person in the vehicle. His dress is that of a General of division, with red facings and gold embroideries. He wears a number of decorations around his neck, while a medal blazing with diamonds, voted to him by the nation, rests on his bosom. His sword-handle is studded with diamonds, and his hand rests on a diamond-headed cane. He is uncovered, and, as he passes and bows gracefully to your salutation, you recognize the President of the Republic!
The departure of the President from the Palace has attracted a crowd. The adjoining market, ever filled with people, pours forth its multitudes into the square.
First, there is the Aguador or water-carrier, with his two earthen jars—one suspended by a leathern belt thrown around his forehead and
