Frank invested a real in a pamphlet called "El Secretario de los Amantes," or, to translate somewhat freely, "the hand-book of lovers." It is probably the most widely circulated book in the Mexican republic, and is as popular among young people as is "The Complete Letter-Writer," among those whose education has not been all they could wish, and who have occasion for epistolary correspondence.
The earnest attention which was given to this little work as soon as it fell into the hands of the youths led to a suspicion on the part of the Doctor that Frank and Fred meditated a little love-making on their own account, by way of experiment. But so far as we have been informed, nothing of the kind occurred; should any later information on the subject come to hand, it will be duly set forth in the second edition of "The Boy Travellers in Mexico."
The "Secretario" contains a code of cipher writing, forms for using numerals in place of the letters of the alphabet, symbols for each of the twenty-four hours of the day and night or the fractions thereof, and the one-hand alphabet for deaf-mutes. The necessity for this alphabet in love-making, and the practice that comes from it, may probably be the reason why many Spanish-Americans occasionally make signs in conversation, instead of speaking in words. There are chapters of advice to lovers, and there is a full signal code for the use of the fan, the handkerchief, the sombrero, and the glove. Spanish women have long been famed for their skill with the fan, and for the conversations they can conduct with its aid, and it has a very important place in the language of love.
FLOWERS FOR A LADY.
In most editions of the book there is a separate chapter on the language of flowers and their various meanings accordingly as they are arranged or combined with others. A love-story can be told in the skilful construction of a bouquet—at least enough of it to form the opening chapter. There is also a language of fruits, and Fred suggested that there should be one of tortillas, frijoles, tamals, and other articles of the Mexican cuisine.
"Here is a wide range," said he, "for the author of 'El Secretario.' Provide each of the lovers with a thermometer, and then the temperature of a tortilla, as it is tossed into or out of a window, can be made to express a great deal. Forty degrees Fahrenheit might mean, 'My love is cold,' and one hundred and twenty degrees would say, 'I'm sighing like the furnace.' Ninety degrees signifies, 'Look out for the old gentleman,' and one hundred would literally say, 'I'm up to par.' The new edition of the book, with the tortilla annex, ought to sell like—"
"Like hot cakes," Frank remarked, and then the subject of matrimony was dropped.