In this connection I have since heard that one of the legal ceremonies in a coroner’s inquest in Central America is to solemnly ask the deceased who killed him.

To return to the point, however; if such things exist among those in the highest positions of trust it is not surprising to find wholesale chicanery among the lower orders; that they realise their shortcomings is evidenced by the fact that if they wish to impress you with the truth of a statement, they add “palabra de Ingles,” i.e., “on the word of an Englishman.”

Their Indian descent is answerable for a great deal, the white and black blood being so mixed that it is almost impossible to note the dividing line.  Their dusky ancestors were blessed with an extremely limited intelligence, only being able to count up to four.  The following incidents were related to me by an old estanciero.  He once saw a trainload of Indian prisoners who had had oranges given them throwing the skins against the windows and showing great surprise when they fell inside.

In another instance a woman came with her daughter to place her in domestic service at the estancia, and as the mother did all the talking, the estanciero’s wife asked if the daughter could speak Spanish.

“Oh, yes,” answered the mother, “but she is barefoot, and would not presume to talk Spanish unless she had shoes on.”

This same girl at first insisted on turning up the carpet whenever she entered a room and walking along the boards at the side.

I fear that I have given a black character to the people I work among, but there are lights as well as shades, and I have had many a weary hour’s ride wiled away by the philosophy and anecdotes of some peon or small contractor, without mentioning the enjoyment of that hospitality which is a characteristic of the nation.

Beside a camp fire, under the stars, while the mate pot passes from hand to hand, or when huddled under a horse cloth with the rain dousing the last embers, I have found the Correntino, or Santa Fecino, a cheery and uncomplaining companion, who compares well with the recently arrived Englishman, who, under the same circumstances, is generally sleepy or bad tempered.

Treat him well and he will treat you well, but if it is necessary to chasten him for his soul’s good, keep your hand a little nearer to your revolver than his is to his knife.

DUST AND OTHER STORMS.

DUST AND OTHER STORMS.

Life in South America has many and varied experiences, though not so uncomfortably exciting perhaps to-day as they were, when more than three years seldom passed without a revolution of some kind, either national or provincial.  The year 1893 was marked by two revolutions in Rosario, the first provincial and the second national, with perhaps little more than two months between them.  It sounds terribly alarming to hear that a revolution has broken out, and pictures