When we had been a day or two in Mexico, we took our first ride to Tacubaya and Chapultepec.  Mexican saddles and bridles were a novelty to us, but when we come to describe our Mexican and his appurtenances it will be time enough to speak of them.

The barricades in the streets constructed during the last revolution of two or three weeks back had not yet been removed, but an opening at one side allowed men and horses to get past.  Carriages had to go round, an easy matter in a city built as this is in squares like a chess-board.  The barricades mount two guns each, and as the streets are quite straight they can sweep them in both directions, to the whole length of their range.  As in Turin, you can look backward and forward along the straight streets from every part of the city, and see mountains at each end.  The suburbs of the city are quite as repulsive as our first glimpse of them led us to expect; and, as far as one could judge by the appearance of the half-caste inhabitants, it is not good to go there alone after dark.  Here is the end of the aqueduct of Chapultepec, the Salto del Agua; and—­crowded round it—­a thoroughly characteristic group of women and water-carriers, filling their great earthen jars with water, which they carry about from house to house.  The women are simply and cheaply dressed, and though not generally pretty, are very graceful in their movements.  Their dress consists of a white cotton under-dress, a coloured cotton skirt, generally blue, brown, or grey, with some small pattern upon it, but never brilliant in colour, and a rebozo, which is a small sober-coloured cotton shawl, long and narrow.  This rebozo passes over the back of the head, where it is somehow fixed to a back hair-comb, and the two ends hang down over the shoulders in front; or, more often, one end is thrown over the opposite shoulder, so that the young lady’s face is set in it, like a picture in a frame.  Add to this a springy step, the peculiarly unconstrained movement in walking which comes of living in the open air and wearing a loose dress, a pleasant pale face, small features, bright eyes, small hands and feet, little slippers and no stockings, and you have as good a picture of a Mexican half-caste girl as I can give.  A book of Mexican engravings, however, will give a much better idea of her.  Then we went past the great prison, the Acordada, and out at the gate (we had purposely gone out of our way to see more of the city), and so into the great promenade, the Pased or Alameda.  The latter is the Spanish name for this necessary appendage to every town.  It comes from alamo, which means a poplar.  Imagine a long wide level road, a mile or so long, generally so chosen as to have a fine view, with footpaths on each side, lines of poplar trees, a fountain at each end and a statue in the middle, and this description will stand pretty nearly for almost every promenade of the kind I have seen in Spain or Spanish America.

[Illustration:  WATER-CARRIER AND A MEXICAN WOMAN, AT THE FOUNTAIN.]