Business must be done on a completely different basis to that which obtains in England.  To return to our friend Fulano, for instance:  he wishes perhaps to ask for an increase of fifty cents per ton on his wood, and introduces the subject by a short conversation about the points of his horse, passing on to the bad state of the bullocks and enlarging on the chance of a rainy winter.  You have just decided that he has nothing more to say and are preparing to leave him, when he makes his request with as much circumlocution as possible.  To have come straight to the point would have been contrary to all his ideas of correct procedure.

I have heard two natives make one another’s acquaintance with a bout of verbal sparring which an Englishman would obviate by a single sentence, such as “Good morning; Mr. Brown, I believe?” “Yes,” the other would answer, and the business would be entered upon immediately.

The Spanish blood, however, calls for some such dialogue as the following, which is taken from real life.

A.—­“Good day.”

B.—­“Good day.”

A.—­“How are you, Senor?”

B.—­“Very well, thank you, Senor; how are you?”

A.—­“Very well, thank you.”

B.—­“I am glad.”

A.—­“Equally.”

B.—­“Don’t mention it.”

A.—­“I am speaking to Mr. Juan Sosa?”

B.—­“At your service.”

A.—­“At yours.”

B.—­“Equally.”

A.—­“It gives me great pleasure to know you.”

B.—­“Equally.”

They are flowery always, whether in greeting, praise, commendation, or in denunciation.

In illustration of the last point, I once heard a cartman give vent to a quite Olympic challenge.

His cart had stuck in a deep rut up to the axles, and he commenced operations by addressing his bullocks with tender words and soft names swiftly followed by lurid curses.  This proving useless, he invoked higher powers, and called on his pet saints by name—­“Help me, San Pedro, San Geronimo, Santa Lucia, San Juan.”  Still no result:—­

Then his patience failed entirely—­“If you won’t help me, San Pedro,” he shouted, “come down and I’ll fight you;” “Come down, San Juan, and I’ll take you both on together.”

Still no reply.

Taking his hat off he placed it on the ground, made the motion of clawing his guardians from the skies and placing them in his hat.

“Stay there, San Geronimo; Stay there, San Juan; Stay there, San Marco.”

When his hat was full enough for his satisfaction he leapt into the air, came down on it with both feet, and continued to dance on it for about three minutes.

Thus, for a real or imagined slight, the streak of black blood will show up and convert a friend into a relentless enemy.

It is not surprising when one considers the lack of civilising influences which ought to be exerted from the top downwards, but which have no root in the highest power they know, which is the arm of the law.  It might be interesting to note a few proofs of the corruption which exists among those who wield the local weapons of justice—­among the commissaries, police, and justices of the peace.