Page:Our Neighbor-Mexico.djvu/168

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158
OUR NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOR.

park opened out for miles, hard, smooth, carpeted with short, dry grass—how he did fly! So did my coward lips from their color. I was in no danger of witching this world with my horsemanship. "Muy mal" (very bad) was the muttered judgment of my score of Mexican escorts, and so was it mine.

A MEXICAN GENERAL.

There was a general in our troop—called Heneral here (another specimen of the contrary style of this people, for Cock-eral would be by far a more proper designation). This G — , H — , or C — eral was a cavalry officer all through the war. He had noticed what fine horses I had got, and how poorly I rode them, and he had had a suspicion that this one would fall to him; so he had offered early to exchange his easy pacer for my furious charger. In a fit of vain glory I had declined. But that park, grass, and gamboling were enough for me. I was willing to swap horses in