When we had been a week or two in the city of Mexico, we decided upon making an excursion to the great silver mining district of the Real del Monte.
Aching all over, we reached level ground again, and Mr. Christy withdrew his claims, and agreed that no road anywhere else could possibly be so bad as a Mexican road; a decision which later experiences only served to confirm.
Whenever anything disagreeable is happening in the country, Vera Cruz is sure to get its full share.
Taking it as a whole, Mexico is a grand city, and, as Cortes truly said, its situation is marvellous.
One step outside the gate, and we are among the sand-hills that stretch for miles and miles round Vera Cruz.
If you look at the arms of the Mexican Republic, on a passport or a silver dollar, you will see a representation of a rock surrounded by water.
The Indian fig trees sent down from every branch suckers, like smooth strings, which rooted themselves in the ground to draw up more water.
The plateau of Mexico is 8,000 feet high, and that of Puebla 9,000 feet.
The Cathedral, for instance, is really a very grand building when seen from a little distance, with its two high towers and its cupola behind.