"The fare," he said, "let us not speak of it. Let us forget it How much money have you?"
"I have here," I said, taking out a roll of bills, "fifty dollars—"
"And that is all you have?"
"Yes."
"Then let that be your fare! Why should I ask more? Were I an American, I might; but in our Mexico, no. What you have we take; beyond that we ask nothing. Let us forget it. Good! And, now, would you prefer to travel first, second, or third class?"
"First class please," I said.
"Very good. Let it be so." Here the little man took from his pocket a red label marked FIRST CLASS and tied it on the edge of the hand car. "It is more comfortable," he said. "Now seat yourself, seize hold of these two handles in front of you. Move them back and forward, thus. Beyond that you need do nothing. The working of the car, other than the mere shoving of the handles, shall be my task. Consider yourself, in fact, senor, as my guest."
We took our places. I applied myself, as directed, to the handles and the little car moved forward across the plain.
"A glorious prospect," I said, as I gazed at the broad panorama.
"Magnifico! Is it not?" said my companion. "Alas, my poor Mexico! She want nothing but water to make her the most fertile country of the globe! Water and soil, those only, and she would excel all others. Give her but water, soil, light, heat, capital and labour, and what could she not be! And what do we see? Distraction, revolution, destruction—pardon me, will you please stop the car a moment? I wish to tear up a little of the track behind us."