The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1916-09-07
THE MEXICAN PEON
AND HIS CUSTOMS
As lie Is Known Only 10 Americans
Who Have Lived Among The
Poems in Mexico.

n ctlih4Ig piCtuIe u LdLtbG lie III
Guanajuato. the treasure chest Of
mercurial Mexico, is given in com
municatlon to the National Geographic
Society By Frank H. Probert a part of
which is released today from the So
ciety's Washington headquarters. Mr.
Probert reveals the Mexican poems as
they are known only to the American
who has lived among them.
Leaving the walled inclosure of
the railroad yards, says the writer,
zone looks down on the apparently
cramped and crowded city Of Guiana
juato, capital of the richest of the south
central states Of Mexico. Hard by. to
the right, is the bull-rng, the scene on
Sunday and. festas of farcical combats
between two-legged brutes and four
legged beasts.
in the soft sunshine of summer days
the first vista Of the city is striking In
deed, Churches of magnificent proper
tons; ancient and modern architectures
strangely blended in the same edifce;
stately buildings; imposing markets
stores of all descriptions; and dwelling
places, rudely bare, variousIy colored
with neutral tints of calsomine, their
granted windows and open doors exhibit
ing to all the sparsely furnished interior
where Uird. beast and human eat and
live together. The sordid squalor of
the many contrasts strikingly with the
oppressive opulence of the few.
The cobblestone streets are crooked
and narrow. so narrow, in fact that
caballeros must take to the sidewalk to
permit of the passing of any kind of
vehicle. The dingy tram. cars are
drawn by relays of mules. three abreast,
beaten into subsection by the singing
lash or coaXed into action by the curses
Of the youthful drivers, whose vernacu-
lar Is wonderfully expressive and eff
fectiye; indeed, doubt if anything but
mule can really appreciate the depth
OF feeling and irresistible persuasive
ness of the vile expressions.
What strange sights one can see in
these main arteries of the city. have
set my camera on the balcony of my
room at the Woods Hotel and will snap
! what passes by. At first, a herd of
patient ploddmg burros loaded down
with slabs of the pale green sandstone
quarried nearby and used for building
purposes; a legless cripple shuffies along
on board, propelling himself with his
hands; cargodoa trots along tlrelessly
with his awkward burden, in this case
a sewing machine; more burros over
loaded with charcoal another pack
struggles under the weight of sacked
ore from the mines; still another bear
ing grain to the market, and the street
car demanding loudly a clear track a
funeral procession where laughing
children carry a baby casket, swaying
g. from side to side to the accompaniment
of anything but appropriate music, and
behind the mourners in silent solomnIty.
Strangely superstitious are these
people. Grossly ignorant, constant in
their faith, pathetic in their simplicity,
kindly and respectful, their life Is
epitomized in the verse:
Let the World slide, let the World
go;
A fig for care and fig for woe.
And death makes equal the high and
low
It's Easter Sunday morning.
am awakened at early dawn by the
footing of tin horns, accompanied by
the sonorous scheeches of bass vIols
and tiddles as sounds are sawn from
their strings; by the shuffllng of sand
led feet over the stones of the street,
and by the babel of voices of passing
poems. Church bells clang, sirens
scream, whistles wildly mingle in the
melody of merrment; for is not this
the day when Judas Iscariot is to be
hung in effigy.'
"a grotesque dummy figure is parad-
ed through the town, followed by the
| jeering and cheering crowds. who have
| risen early to give expression to their
righteous Indignation against the be-
trayer. After crcling the city the pro-
| cession halts, Judas is promptly ysnked
| by the ropes from the bearers and
| bangles in mid-air, sorry sight, spit
l upon, cursed, condemned, consigned to
| everlasting purgatory, to which place,
| at sunset, he is sent by the explosion of
dynamite concealed in his carcass. Ri
boldry runs riot as the day advances,
and night falls on an exhausted though
Il happy people. What matters if the
prison is overcrowded that night. OF
| that the supply of mescal is depleted
/ almost to the degree of exhaustion?
/ ITO the casual visitors from the
States the habits and customs of these
lowly people are strange, but fascinat-
ing. They do not need our commisera
ton or sympathy; they are content in
their mode of living, and who shall say
| hot tba1, h. 1,,y,