would despatch his repast without knife, fork, or spoon; using a piece of tortilla doubled between his fingers instead. The hue of the cooks, male and female, of the waiters in attendance, the platters, the viands, and the table-cloth—when there was one—were all in keeping with the sooty walls.
"Pardon me, Señor," exclaimed my attendant, laughing, as he once entered my apartment, "but there has been a very strange scene in the fonda to-night! A poor Indian, the picture of starvation, with hollow cheeks, skinny arms, and eyes almost starting from their sockets, came to the door, and with hands uplifted, implored us in this manner:—
"'For the love of God! Señores—for the sake of the blessed Virgin! as you hope never to come to my state yourselves—pity me and relieve me! Is there not a morsel of tortilla? nor the least portion of chilé? Not a scrap of dried flesh? nor a cup of cold stew for a poor Indian? For the love of the blessed Virgin, relieve a starving Indian!'
"Now, as it happened, there was no one in the fonda at the moment but a poor arriero (a common carrier), the cooks, the waiter, myself, and Perata—the priest's servant, who resides
