are then encountered here as would forever cure the most radical anti-Sabbatarian of his desire to show his independence of the Scriptures by a desecration of the sacred day.
As one has to go through it on his way to one of our churches, he gets a glimpse of its desecration in spite of himself. Each vocation has its allotted place. One narrow avenue is filled with coffin-makers, driving a brisk trade with their black boards, for black is the color of your "wooden jacket" in Mexico. A dozen shops and several dozen workmen make this dismal trade hilarious.
SCENE IN MARKET.
Another long alley is appropriated to the eating business, and great stew-pans over handfuls of coals keep hot the flesh-soups and bones; while on the ground around sit groups of eaters, dipping their bread in the sop or sipping chocolate or coffee, each of which beverages they know how to compound excellently well.
Across the town we find another plaza, less noisy daily, but which has seen greater crowds and heard greater noises than even
