A GIFT TO FRED.

"We have been much impressed and amused," said Fred in a letter to his mother, "with the Mexican, or, rather, the Spanish, forms of politeness. Whenever we are introduced to anybody, he immediately says, 'Remember that your house is at No. — on —— Street,' notwithstanding that we may have told him we are comfortably quartered at the hotel. In one day a dozen or twenty houses were offered to us; and ever since then, if no more than two or three are tendered between sunrise and bed-time, we think it is a very poor day for business. Sometimes the form is varied by saying, 'My house and all it contains are yours.' It would be better if they would send us the title-deeds to the establishment, with a bill of sale of the furniture acknowledged and receipted before a notary; but thus far nobody has gone as far as that.

"It is a form of politeness, and nothing more," the youth continued, "and the people who offer us their houses are about as sincere as Americans are when they say, 'Delighted to see you,' or, 'Happy to meet you,' to the people they are introduced to in their own country; or as the New York hostess who says to a departing guest, 'Must you go so soon?' when she has really been wondering to herself why the visitor tarried so long.

"It seemed very odd until we got used to it and learned the real meaning of the words, to be told on entering the dwelling of a man we had not known five minutes, 'You are in your own house;' or that we were the masters, and he was the humble guest. Doctor Bronson says they really mean to have us make ourselves at home, and they certainly show great hospitality; but it would be a sad mistake to take them literally and act as though the place belonged to us.

"Every time we admire anything—a piece of furniture, a garment, an article of jewellery or bric-à-brac, or anything else of value—we are immediately told that it belongs to us, and, if it is portable, that we can carry it away with us. If we should be so boorish as to accept the offer, the person who made it would not display any annoyance, however much he might feel; he is too polite for that.

"'What would they do under such circumstances?' I hear you ask. I can best answer by telling a story we heard yesterday.

"An English lady who had just arrived, and had not learned the forms of Mexican politeness, one day admired a set of jewellery, which included a very costly necklace of diamonds and other precious stones that had belonged to the family for two or three hundred years. She was told that the set of jewellery was hers, and believing they meant what they said, she took it away with her when her call was ended.

"Of course the story was at once told to the friend who had made the introduction, and the latter at once went to the guileless stranger and explained the situation. She returned the jewels immediately, with the explanation that, on reaching home, she had found they did not match the dress with which she expected to wear them. She added that she had a fine set of jewellery which she thought would be an appropriate present for one of the young ladies of the family, and she would send it with great pleasure. A polite message was returned declining the offer, and hoping it would be in the power of the family to render the English visitor some distinguished services during her stay in the city. In this way the whole difficulty was bridged over, and the parties were good friends.

"A similar story was told us regarding an American lady who visited Mexico several years ago, and, through her ignorance of the local forms of politeness, accepted the offer of a rare and beautiful shawl. Mutual friends arranged the matter amicably; but the fair American was greatly mortified when she learned the mistake she had made.