Drearily,
J.
Two Hours Later.
P.S. We took a little paseo in the moonlight and things looked brighter in the dark! The only reason the C.E. gets a little annoyed is that he cannot bear to see me in distress or danger. He was very nice about promising to help me smooth the path for Romeo and Juliet.
We pass through Guadalajara and I'll run in to see Dolores Tristeza.
J.
On the Train to Guanajuato.
Sally, she came running to meet me and flung herself into my arms! The sister says she's never done that to any one before, and she told me the child had talked of me constantly. They're going to let me take her out for a whole day when we come back. She called "Hasta la vista!"—and threw me a kiss. She has quite wiped out the lizard and the insurrecto.
Later.
This is the most fascinating place yet! I'm glad the C.E. lives here, rather than in the cloying prettiness of the tierra caliente. It's great fun, arriving at a new place after dark. The town is high in the hills above the station and we came up in a mule car, rattling through the twisting, narrow streets. I sat near the driver, only his soft, bright eyes showing between his high-wrapped serape and his low-drawn sombrero, and he told me that his mules were named Constantino and The Pine Tree, faithful animals both of whom he tenderly loved. The few pedestrians scuttled into doorways or flattened themselves against the walls as we caromed past, and from time to time he blew a deafening blast on a crumpled horn.