the hill, seats had been placed for ladies, which were speedily filled by them attired in full dress for the evening. The fine military band of the garrison struck up directly in the centre of the sward, and in a moment the dancers were on foot. Galopades, waltzes, cotillons, Spanish dances—succeeded each other rapidly. It was difficult to say which was the more beautiful display—that of Mexican beauty tripping it with gay cavalier "to music on the green," or that of Mexican beauty lining the hill, side, and watching the festive scene with its pensive gaze.
The dance continued until twilight, when the crowd moved off to town, in carriages and on foot. In a moment all was bustle, and as I gained the road, I was a little astonished to see the hosts of beggars who were there to meet the returning mass of roystering lads, and gleesome fair ones. Nor were these; alone, the beggars of St. Augustin—the city had poured out its complement; all my well-known acquaintances were present, anxious to pick up the "crumbs from the rich man's table," and, for ought I know, to venture some of them slyly in the booths of the square. As this tide of joyous life swept home, I could not help noticing one of these wretches, who threw himself actually in the pathway of the returning multitude, and rolled along the road in such a manner that it became impossible to pass without treading on or over him. It was the old howling beggar of the Alameda: kicks, cuffs, stumbles availed nothing; still he rolled, and still he howled.
Such is the contrast presented continually between enormous wealth and squalid misery in the Republic of Mexico!
