The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1902-08-18
A Mexican
Entanglenlent.p D
San Francisco News Letter.

| San Francisco News Letter.
| 7 BEGAN it in fun. If you incline tC
blame me, remember that l was in
Mexico. When Americans go tc
Mexico they drop their sense of pro-
priety into the Rio Grande river, and
as they cross the border step back 200
years into romance and adventure
Moreover, l was governess. 1 lead
the life of a governess. AS they told
me in Spanish, every day was another
| day, and all alike. l was English gov
erness to the only daughgter of rich
plantation owner. And l was IS years
old.
The family lived in TiaXco. Tiaxco!
A little village on the northern bound
airy of the state of TiaXcala, ninety
miles east of Mexico City. 1t lies on a
slope of the Sierra Madre like bit OF
driftwood tossed there. Below it surges
that great earth-sea called the Ilanos
of Apam, plains that come up from
the south, wave on wave. and fall back
in the foot-hill breakers from the rocky
shore line of the Madre mountains. l
| looked over those llanos from my win
dow, and as far as eye could reach to
west and south lay the lands of the
hacienda, covered row on row with
prOudleaved maguey. 10 the east,
nestled on a hill, ! could make out the
white walls of the neighboring plant
er's home, where it stood guard above
his fields They touched ours and
reached the horizon on the other hand.
Through the valley and into the misty
south wound the satin ribbon of the
road; at its other end lay Puebla, and
somewhere between ran the steel rails
of the Mexican National, binding us to
civilization and the capital.
TiaXco! Miserable collection of
gaudily-tinted adobe huts set close
along the three feet of sidewalk that
borders cobbled, grass-grown street.
On the plaza stands the church like a
Gascony shepherd above his flock, its
red dome cap a-gleam in the sun.
1t was a sweet March evening, and
my little pupils and l went out for our
usual walk, We passed the barracks
and dirty soldiers stared at us. The
captain of the rural guard stood bare
headed as we went by. We passed the
notary's office, and the clerk, i'm linen
duster, having the honor of our ac-
quaintance, assured us that he was at
ouI leet' we pdsstu tiie priest s mouse,
and his sister beamed down upon us
from behind the bars of her parlor WIN
dow. The good father himself came
from the door and greeted us. He
sighed as he spoke to me. was an
unbeliever. The village doctor opened
his office window to salute us, He
urged me to care for my cough, lest
die-l thought bittery-on his hands.
and be buried in the unconsecra ted
open, thing not fit for the holy field
of the >Catholic cemetery. | knew the
law and took my medicine regularly.
We went on into side street. Tired
faced women peered from windows at
the unusual sound of a passing step.
Herds of black-eyed children ran out
from inner courts TO see "the Ameri-
cam and the little owner"
We went out into the fields and gath
cred flowers until the sun SCI and mists
lowered off the hills to warn us of
night. Then we turned homewards.
1t was then l met him. A horse came
Gathering up side street. Clara
stepped from the walk unheeding. and
jerked her back from under it's very
feet. l looked up at the rider He
wore the yellow leather suit of the
Mexican cowboy, with its silver em-
broidery and trimmings. A red silk