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[[underlined]] CHURCH OF THE GUADELOUPE, MEXICO [[/underlined]]
(Extract from a letter to Mrs. Holmes)
[[insertion]] ^[[April x 1884]] [[/insertion]]
At two o'clock Jackson and I set out for the Church of Guadeloupe which lies on the north side of the valley against the foot-hills a mile or two from the city.  We took the street cars up to the Grand Plaza thence by another line out across the flat fields to the north.  It was a charming ride.  The street cars here are well managed.  The cars themselves are shipped from New York or some other northern city and the tracks are extremely well made [[insertion]] ^[[laid]] [[/insertion]]. We asked the driver in our purest Castilian if this were the car for Guadeloupe and were answered "Si, Senor."  We rattled along at a breakneck pace drawn by two mules, first down a picturesque street with old palaces and churches on all hands with markets and pulque shops and all sorts of stores open.  The streets were lined with people -- some dressed in our own fashion, but nearly all in the simple costume of the country.  The poorer -- nearly all are poor -- looking awfully like Indians, the which they really are, and hardly less rough, dirty and pitiful than the wildest pai-ute.  They are sitting on the side walks, in the streets and in the gutter, talking, preparing the rude tortillas or cakes or selling some small articles to the passerby.  They grind their corn on a big "metate" like the pueblo Indians, knead their dough and bake the greasy garlicky mess right where they sit.  The men wear a shirt, a broad straw hat and loose pants of white muslin.