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TRAVELS IN MEXICO.
crossed it on its way northward, and was snorting "Buenos dias" to Tula itself. The workmen lived in little huts, made of the branches of trees and the leaves of the maguey plant, just large enough to shelter them; and at a point on the river they had
scooped out holes in the clay banks, and there taken up their abode. In the huts, and beneath bowers of branches, Indian women were quietly engaged in making tortillas and in other domestic duties. Looking upon this peaceful scene of activity, I could not help thinking of what a gentleman, an American