FRUIT-SELLERS IN THE MARKET-PLACE.
"These fruit-sellers were so numerous near the entrance of the market that it was no easy matter to get past them into the open space beyond. A medio would buy all the oranges, bananas, or mangoes that one would care for. Frank and I invested two medios (twelve cents) in oranges, and distributed them to a lot of boys that were strolling through the place. They took the fruit with an air of gratitude combined with dignity, and during the rest of our stay several of them followed us about in the hope that our princely generosity would be renewed.
SITTING FOR HER PORTRAIT.
"The square where the market was held was filled with little shelters to keep off the heat of the sun. These shelters were made by sticking up poles so as to hold a piece of matting or common cloth in a horizontal position. Under each of these impromptu tents a vender was seated, generally a woman or a girl, and the articles for sale were spread on the ground. Eggs, fruit, lettuce, peas, beans, and kindred products of the garden were thus displayed; and the wonder seemed to be that nobody trod upon the wares, which were certainly endangered by careless feet. Mules and donkeys with large panniers on each side brought loads of things to be disposed of, but the greater part of the burdens were borne on the backs of men. Occasionally a man on horseback appeared in the market, and once in a while a policeman showed himself, though his presence did not appear to be needed at all. We did not hear or see anything that approached a quarrel, and were told that fights were of very rare occurrence.
"Some of these shelters are restaurants on a small scale, and one day we went to the market to take a medio breakfast, being assured that it was one of the sensations of the country. We sought one of the most attractive restaurants we could find, and squatted on the ground close to the one individual who was proprietor, chef, head-waiter, waiter, and everybody else. Our breakfast was a stew of frijoles, chile con carne, and tortillas. It was served to us in jicaras, or half-shells of some kind of tree-fruit whose name we did not learn. No spoons or forks were supplied. We used the tortillas for spoons, and afterwards devoured them in true Mexican style. As Sam Weller said of veal-pie, a medio breakfast in a Yucateo restaurant is 'werry fillin'' at the price. The Yucateos are as devoted to the tortilla as are the inhabitants of the rest of Mexico, and the native cooks are expert in its manufacture.