Boon's Lick times. [volume] (Fayette, Mo.) 1840-1848, 1847-11-20

dresses, remind one strongly of Venice.
Skirtng the canal, and leading to the
plain which adjoins the Chenampas, or
former floating gardens, is the Paseo de la
Vega, public drive frequented by the beau
mode, both in coach and on horseback.
during the season of Lent. Scarcely an
afternoon passes, at that period of the year,
when the observer will not find the canal
covered with gay boat-loads of Indians,
passing homeward from market, singing,
dancing, laughing, stunning the guitar,
and crowned with wreaths of poppics ]
do not know the origin of the custom of
wearing the forgetful flower, but it is both
healthier and more poetic oblivion than
that resorted to by many folks in other
lands, after a day of toll. Turning once
more westward, we again reach the great
square. The departure of the President
from the palace has attracted a crowd.
The adjoining market, ever filled with peo-
pie, pours forth its mul,itudes in the square.
First, there is the ecuador, or water carrier
with his two earthen jars: one suspended
by leathern belt thrown round his fore.
head, and resting on his back, and the 9th.
err suspended from the back of his head in
front of him, preserving the equilibrium.
Next there is the Indian, with huge crop
of chickens and turkeys, or a crate of
earthenware, or a pannier of oranges.
borne on his back like the equador's jars.
Then a woman with peas, or ducks, or fish
from the lake; another with potatoes;
another drives along poor stunted ass,
laden with radishes and onions; and all
the members of this motley crowd are cry
ing their wares and merchandise at the top
of their voice. 1t is a Babel.
Amid the throng treads onward, with
steps majestic, the queenly Spanish wo-
man; by her side is friar, and hard by
couple of priests in their graceful black
cloaks and shovel hats. In the shadow of
pillar of the portals sneaks miserable
looking wretch, wrapped in his tattered
blanket--a lepero, porter, beggar, thief, a.
the occasion offers; and he takes advantage
of the latter employment, in this moment
Of excitement, TO ease an unsuSpicious
stranger of his handkerchief.
A tinkle of bell a. the door of the
cathedral sacristy and roll of drums call
ing out the guard Of honor at the palace
gate, give warning of change of scene
Slowly issues gaiIy painted coach. with
glass windows on all sides, drawn by spot.
ted mules; q priest in his veslments sits
within-a band of boys walk on each side,
chanting hymn and in a moment, death
like stiffness pervades the whole square
From the tradesmen, selling his tapes under
the portals, to the thief who has barely
time to conceal the handkerchief in Iii
dirty blanket, the whole crowd is uncover
ed and kneeling: the host is passing to tht
house of some dying Catholic. The car
riage turns a corner, and the square !;
alive again--the tradesman to sell, the lepe
70 to steal, aud the lesson Of death is for
gotten forever.
TIE ALAMEDA.
Turning westward from the square, we
reach the Alameda, q very short wall
through the Gale plateros, street fIIet
with the shops of goIdsmths, watchma
kers, French hair.drcssers, French cooks
French milllners, French carvers and gid
crs, and French print sellers; and we pas
on our way the rich convent Of the Pro
fessa, or ex.Jesuits, and the more splend!,
one of the blue robed monks Of San
Francis. The Alameda is beautiful grove
of forest trees planted on about ten acre
Vi SUI anu IuAuiiuIIt SUI. nc "oOi
which is walled and protected by gate
closed every evening as the bells toll 70
oraci0n, is intersected with walks and sur
rounded by carriage road. Fountains
fling up their water where the paths eros
each other, and the ground beneath tn
full-grown tree is filed with flowers anC
shrubbery.
The great centre fountain is surrounded
by a gilded figure of Liberty, and glide
lions spout forth the water at his feet
This, and the other smaller Jets, in pleas
anter and more secluded hooks, are circle
with stone seats. 1t is the fashion t.
come here in carriages and on horsebac
every evening, Except during LenD an
to drive round and round the enclosure, o
the soft roads in the dense shade, until III
vesper-bell-or to draw up in line on tn
side of one of the highways, while Ii
cavaliers pass up and down in review, o
prattle away half an hour at the coac
J window of some renowned belle.
, But there can be nothing more delightfl
than walk here during the early mornin!
There is freshness then in the Aria que
and peacefulness that are found at no othe
time of the day. The student comes wit
his book; the priest from his early mas
5 the nurse with her baby; the sentiment
} miss, to sigh for her lover. land perhaps
9 see him) the dyspeptic, to earn an app,
/ tte for his breakfast; the monk, the loun!
: er, and even the laborers stop for momel
J, beneath the refreshing shades to take brea,
t for The coming day. 1t is almost Druidc
in the solemn stiffness of its groves, place
in the midst of population of two hun
thnnnnnnl Al IL. ,