longer than a life-time, usually. The story of the actress reminded me of a story told me by a newly married runaway Mexican couple in Los Angeles just before I started on my trip. The young husband was a member of the middle class of Mexico City and his wife was the daughter of a millionaire. Because the boy was considered to be "below" the girl, the girl's father went to extremes in his efforts to prevent the marriage.
"George went through many dangers for me," is the way the young bride told the story. "One time my father tried to shoot him and another time my father offered the authorities five thousand pesos to kidnap him and send him to Valle Nacional. But I warned George and he was able to save himself!"
Pla also told of eleven girls who had come to him in a single shipment from Oaxaca,
"They were at a public dance," said he. "Some men got into a fight and the police jailed everybody in the hall. Those girls didn't have anything to do with the trouble, but the jefe politico needed the money and so he sent them all here."
"Well," I asked, "what sort of women were they? Public women?"
Pla shot me a glance full of meaning.
"No, Senor!" he said, with contempt in his voice, "do you suppose that I need to have that kind of women sent in here to me?"
The close attendance of owners and superintendents as well as the ubiquity of overseers, prevented us from obtaining many long interviews with the slaves. One of the most notable of our slave talks occurred the day following our visit to the Balsa Hermanos farm. Returning from a long day's visit to numerous plantations, we hailed a ploughman working near the road on "Hondura
