or rather not to die in, by the wonderful air and sunshine, and the purity of atmosphere caused by great elevation. Coming from the north, the smooth tablelands rise by such gentle gradations, that one is not conscious of being lifted above the sea-level; but the eight thousand feet are actually there to separate one from the lower world, and bear him into at least comparative security. If it were not for this blessed altitude, and the purity which belongs to it, the city would be a simple death-trap. As it is, matters are bad enough.
It was on the road to Guadalupe that we once saw a picture, which has since become common, but which looked then like a scriptural illustration made real. A young woman, decently and simply dressed, with a sleeping infant in her arms, sitting upon a small, patient burro, passed down a dusty lane under the shadow of a hedge of yuccas, which looked not unlike the Eastern palm. Her long, blue reboso was wound modestly about the head, and covered the form of the little child, whom she was regarding as fondly as the most tender mother could desire. By her side walked, bare-headed for the time being, a handsome, middle-aged man, with a magnificent shock of
