leaves were curiously tattered and jagged.  Among them grew other plants, coffee, orange-trees, peaches, and cane.  When we reached the town, my heart sank; a church with handsome dome and modern tower, a planted plaza with central fountain, buildings, of two stories with gaudy fronts and portales, surrounding three sides of the square, augured better for comfort while we were in the place, than for work on Totonacs.  We rode up to the municipio, where we found the presidente, a rather stylish young fellow, who was interested in our work and helpful.  The town controls fourteen thousand persons, and its name is derived from that of a large ahuacate, the Aztec name of which is pahuatl.  The presidente assured us that there was no Totonac town, properly speaking, within the limits of the municipio.  For all this district, Orozco y Berra makes many errors.  Atla, which he lists as Totonac, is really Aztec.  The presidente, upon a local map, showed us the interesting way in which natural barriers limit idioms.  Two little streams, coming together at an acute angle, may divide three languages—­one being spoken in the angle and one on either side.  In Tlaxco, a small village in this municipio, four idioms are spoken—­Aztec, Otomi, Totonac and Tepehua.

Two years before, just as my work was ending, we were in the great Otomi town of Huixquilucan, in the state of Mexico.  While resting at midday, I noticed a neatly-dressed and clean young indian, plainly not Otomi, with whom I conversed.  He was an Aztec, and much interested in the work we were doing.  In our conversation, he told me that I would find much of interest in the state of Hidalgo, and particularly called my attention to the making of paper from bark, which he had observed in the town of San Gregorio, two years before.  This particularly interested me, and I then made notes regarding the method of getting to San Gregorio.  I was advised by him, in case of going to that place, to talk with Don Pablo Leyra, of Huehuetla, who was himself an Indian and a man of consequence in the district—­a sort of cacique among his people.  Several years ago, I had first learned from Senor Eurosa, a Mexican Protestant clergyman, that in the little town of Tlacuilotepec, there still survive interesting pagan practices.  In planning our present journey, I had arranged to visit San Gregorio and Tlacuilotepec for the purpose of investigating this manufacture of paper and these pagan customs.  Inquiring of the presidente of Pahuatlan about his indians, I asked regarding paper-beating, and discovered that it was done at the nearest indian village of San Pablito, Otomi.  We were told that bark of several species of trees was used—­jonote, dragon, and mulberry; that the paper is usually made secretly and in-doors; that the passing traveller can hear the sound of light and rapid pounding as he passes through the village; that it is made in every house,