I wonder where Bill can be. I could stand the loss of the rest of the party, but he is-my friend indeed, or would be if I could see him. If I thought I could find a good dish of frijoles and tortillas in the camp of those Mexican or Chileno charcoal-burners over there in the cañon, from whence the bugle-call came, I would start on the instant, and let the rest of the party go; but the chances are ten to one that they have become demoralized, living among the Yankees and Pikes, and I should find only black coffee in the place of the delicious chocolate de Tabasco, fried bacon or frijoles, and saleratus or yeast-powder biscuit for the tortillas. This is a pretty good place after all, though I am getting very dry.
I believe I will take a smoke. Why did I not think of that before? The tobacco of Orizava is meat and drink and rest, all in one. Leonardo Sandoval, proprietor of "La Fabric a del Buen Gusto en Guadalajara," you are a noble fellow, though anti-tobacconists may say what they please; and you are my friend! You have the soul of a poet, too, in your bosom, else this would never have been printed in letters of gold upon the wrapper of the package of your cigarritos, which by unbounded good luck I find in my pocket:
Niña hermosa,
Ya que te dio' natura bondadosa
Dientes de perla, labios de coral;
La ambrosía
Aspira solo de la esencia mia
Y haré tu aliento puro, angelical.
