Fayetteville observer. [volume] (Fayetteville, Tenn.) 1850-1966, 1867-01-31

We're trOttlng merrlly ealonS tne
road to Merida. AT ri betegit!as.
H. Our journey to the capitol at.
forded no incident worthy OF
narration, unless indeed two
s'break downs, y and Antonio's
dexterity in patchingup be deemed
so, and about half an, hour after
sunset we drove into the deserted
streets of "the, city" All our
friend Antonio's "Istas," "Mulas'
and "Santas" were not sufficient
to raise a trot, and in a ''most
musical, most melancholy walk,
we creaked through the wide oak
door of the "Meson Santiago" or
s'St, James Hotel" Mother Pepa,
whose latitude and longitude dit
fered but little in degree, stood in
the paved court, and with many
abortive courtesies received the
guests, who in this country are
always "illustrious." Jerry took
her hand and saluted her fat cheek,
telling her he was "devilish glad to
see her. and / followed the cordial
pair into the best room, where a
table was ready set with red beans,
goats flesh, tortillas and coffee:
Jerry stopped at the door and held
a short colloquy with the "Madre, "
while 1 listened to the music,
which---the "diligencia" land the
'carrachos" being stilled at last
[ / was enabled to hear from an up
per room on the other side OF the
court. y1 yjIt' leHs 8E'
eWhy, jerry 'hsaid l, as he en-
tered, sending the old abbess OF
in a.quick waddle, "youa seem to
know where you are" .alHog5a
E "Know where L am2 certainly
/ dow he exclaimed; afTve been
here before; spent two months
here once. And, by-the-bye, we're
just in townl Don't you hear the
music" a9a3 iirW bna ,aioa
lL7"Yes, but I'd know we were in
town without that, IL answered,
"Not SO deep in town. though, !"
he re,ioined +; .'for there is fan
dango' up there, my boy! See"
he continued, slapping me on the
back, "see what a thing it is to
travel in good company; we have
the entree already!'' 'e A..
"Good," I exclaimed, entering
into the spirit of the thing; for
pleasure was what we were after.
"Or," said Jerry, Gas they say
here, 'Mucho bueno,' Speak
Spanish, my boy, or you will never
get along here; for d the word
do any Of these people know of
English" i''' -i''"
"Well, well, don't swear, Jerry |!
I'll rub up my Spanish" -"
eyes, and be a little more Irish
and a little less nice" he rejoined; |;
"that's quite as necessary as Span
| ish." t ' ~
Jerry was an Iris hman himself
by blood, as his name indicates; /;
SO my readers will excuse him
At any rate, Ibid, for in less than
half an hour his energetic, though
somewhat equiyocal Spanish had
given US the entree into the room
where was assembled the elite of
the city of Merida.
"Here, Tom," said he, dragging
me across the room, "come this
way, my boy, and let me intro
duce you.' 4.e
They were dancing some "cross
between a cotillion and a reel" as
Jerry said; as we made our way
round the figure, we passed agroup
standing in one of the windows,
which were all embayed and gra-
ted with iron, but contained no
glass. A young man with a pro.
, fusion of gold coins on the outside
seam of his slashed pataloons and
very heavy ring on his fpretiIl-
gerstepped out, and was extremely
glad to see Jerry, shaking him by
the hand and seeming inclined
to embrace him. Jerry was GLAD
to see him also, and introduced
me with good deal OF empress
J meat. "Don Benito de la Torre,
. he called him, and treated hin
, with far more respect than
, thought his sinister look warrant
fnd #..-s,s. ~. ty.~ - " ih'''.s
f., ,aOnde esta Carlota?" Jerry
1 asked, and aslight frown contract
: ed the Don's face; but Jerry hur