Henry Stephens

Overeating, oversleeping, and overindulgence in liquid refreshments (this applies to soft drinks as well as to others) constitute the whole time of the stranger in Buenos Aires, who has nothing else to do, than, seated at a table in front of one of the cafÉs on the Avenida de Mayo, to study human nature, and watch the endless stream of humanity, horses, cabs, and automobiles pass by. Tiring of this I thought of going to Mar del Plata and from some good point of vantage gaze in admiration at the attractions of that spa, and look with pleasure at the latest Parisian and Bonaerense creations that bedecked and showed off to advantage the well-molded female forms of the high aristocracy as they pass in parade in front of the Hotel Bristol and the Casino.

Quite suddenly, and very unusual for this time of the year, for it was late in February, a great climatic change took place and the temperature which had been hovering around the 100° mark dropped into the fifties. One gloomy morning, as I stood gazing from the balcony of my room into the Avenida de Mayo, watching the boulevardiers being hurried along by the strong wind, I decided that Mar del Plata would be no place for me. My thoughts diverted to warmer climes, Paraguay and Brazil. There is a Paraguayan store on the Avenida, a favorite shopping place for ladies and curio seekers. It has displays of egrets, feathers, stuffed birds, stuffed toads, crocodiles, iguanos, armadillo shells, yerba matÉ leaves, native headdresses of parrot wings, and beetles. But by far the most attractive of anything in the store is the fine Paraguayan girl, about twenty years old, who waits on the customers. I cannot call her beautiful, yet there is something so hypnotically fascinating about her that, after I first saw her, I was always returning to the store again to feast my eyes on her with the pretense of making some trivial purchase. Whether it was her eyes, her face, her voice, her figure or her natural complexion, or all these attractions combined that charmed me, I am unable to say, and my friends whom I called in to look at her all said that she exerted over them the same spell. Every time I saw this girl I had the longing to revisit Paraguay, and this, combined with the horrid weather, decided me at once to visit the land where San Martin, Francia, and Francisco Solano Lopez first saw the light of day.

I had been in Paraguay before, once when Asuncion was under martial law, and although I now knew that I would see nothing new in visiting the country, there are always some places that the traveler enjoys seeing more than once. Upon my leaving there before, great was my rejoicing when I saw the blue, white, and blue flag of Argentina floating from the flagstaff over the custom-house at Corrientes, for I knew that I was once more in a country of law and order. At that time Paraguay was at the height of one of the many revolutions that have continuously stained her history for the last forty-five years, and Asuncion was like a tomb. Now since everything was tranquil I would enjoy myself more.

It is now possible to travel from Buenos Aires to Asuncion without changing cars on a through vestibuled train with sleeping cars and a dining car. The time en route is but fifty-three hours, for the train leaves Buenos Aires thrice weekly at 3 P.M., and arrives at Asuncion two days afterwards at 8 P.M. Formerly Posadas was the terminus of the trains from Buenos Aires, and the travelers were obliged to wait in that stamping ground of Heidecker, Rohrsetzer, and Barthe anywhere from two to five days in order to make connection with the Paraguay Central Railroad, which ran at irregular intervals of time to Asuncion from Villa Encarnacion, the Paraguayan river port about two miles across the Alto ParanÁ River from Posadas. The through train is now taken on a ferry-boat a short distance above Posadas and is steamed across to the Paraguayan railway terminus at Pacu Cua.

Three hours after leaving the Chacarita Station at Buenos Aires, the lonesome town of Zarate is reached, where the train is transferred onto a car ferry that plies to Ibicui, a trip of nearly five hours through the estuaries that form the delta of the ParanÁ River, past marshes abounding in wild fowl who have their nests on the swampy islands. Although this delta is but three hours from Buenos Aires, it might as well be in the center of the continent as far as civilization is concerned. The crossing of this delta is always made obnoxious on account of the mosquitoes which abound here. In making this crossing most of the passengers were in the dining car. Here one could observe types. Most were Paraguayans of the upper classes returning home after a week's visit in the Argentine metropolis. Although all had just left Buenos Aires that name was but infrequently mentioned. In every sentence of their conversation was heard the word "Asuncion," a name which to the true Paraguayan means much more to them than does New York to us, or Paris to the Frenchman. It is the focus of all Paraguayan life, and although it would be but a mediocre city in this country, it is the only one of size in Paraguay.

There are two distinct types of Paraguayans. The first type of men are good sized, fairly stout, with round faces. Their eyebrows and moustaches are straight and have the appearance of being penciled. The noses of these people are Roman and their facial characteristics are strong and sensual. This type is only met with among the very highest social classes such as were the occupants of the dining car the night we crossed the delta. One of these men has one of the largest importing and general merchandise stores in Asuncion. His surname is Angulo. The other type of Paraguayan, which comprises the masses, and with whom one does not come into contact in a casual way, are swarthy, flat-chested, and narrow-shouldered. They have large ears and low foreheads, bushy eyebrows and thin noses. The middle class is not native. It is composed of Spanish, German, Italian, and French merchants. Mr. James Bryce in his book, South America: Observations and Impressions, said in speaking of La Paz Bolivia: "It has probably a larger aboriginal population than any other city in the New World, although the percentage of Indians may be somewhat greater in Asuncion, the capital of Paraguay." There are no Indians, and there is but little mixed blood in Asuncion. The early settlers originally married with the natives but the taint of miscegenation has long run out. The Asuncenos are a white folk in every respect. Indians predominate in the Bolivian capital and Bryce has never been in Asuncion.

During our evening meal on the dining car, a large beetle or bug, in circumference the size of a tea cup, flew in through the open window and made a terrific buzzing, the noise being equal to that of those toys for children which one winds up and then lets go. It flew all over the room and as its bite would undoubtedly be poisonous, it put all the occupants of the car in a pandemonium as each one was trying to get out of the way of it. It seemed to be in several different places at the same time.

It was near midnight when we reached the Entre Rios shore. The Entrerrieno landscape as far as Concordia is gently undulating, and the soil which is sandy is given over to the pasturing of herds of horses. There is not much grain grown and it is just as well, for occasionally a dark cloud was seen approaching on the horizon, which, when it broke, it was seen to be billions on billions of locusts on their way to Uruguay. They flew into the train windows, into the food, into the dining car, up one's trouser legs and coat sleeves. The noise of their crunching was most disgusting as one trod upon them while they littered the aisles of the cars. When seized, they expectorate a dark brown fluid of a most nauseating odor. They fly into the streams and wells, poisoning the water. Before arriving at Concordia, we crossed a palmetto wilderness called, in this part of the country, a palmar. Concordia, although not the capital, is the largest city of Entre Rios. It has passed in population ParanÁ and now has 48,500 inhabitants according to the latest estimate. It is the largest and liveliest town in Argentina east of the ParanÁ River and is connected by a bridge over the Uruguay River to Salto in Uruguay, which was only contemplated at the time of my visit to these cities three years before. A street-car line has been recently built and with its beef-canning establishments and as the center of a wine producing region, Concordia has some future, although the soil is sandy. This soil is much better adapted for fruit than for grain. Oranges, apples, and olives are grown.

From Concordia the train ceases to run over the rails of the Entre Rios Railroad but runs on the track of the Northeastern Argentine Railroad as far as Posadas. After leaving Chajari, the Province of Corrientes is entered and the landscape immediately changes. The country is still undulating, but the soil is rich and even soggy in places from frequent rains which are prevalent here. Everything is green and as far as the eye can see, horses and cattle graze on the short grass. Water is everywhere. There are puddles in the fields; there are small lakes; numerous streams are crossed. The blue water of the Uruguay River is at one's right beyond which, so near that you feel as if you could reach out your hand and grab them, are the rolling green hills of Brazil. Monte Caseros is reached at 4:20 P.M., a town of about eight thousand inhabitants which contains the head offices of the Northeastern Argentine Railroad. Paso de los Libres is reached at 7:18 P.M., whence one can cross by ferry to Uruguayana, a Brazilian city in the State of Rio Grande do Sul on which Francisco Solano Lopez, Paraguayan dictator, tried to march his army in 1866. This town has its name handed down to posterity by the cepo uruguayana, a barbaric method of torture which originated there and which was frequently employed by Artigas, Rosas, Lopez, and by other tyrants of a similar caliber. At bedtime the train stops at Alvear, an important livestock town.

The peasants are now Indians. They live in adobe and cane huts in the fields and are a peaceable, pastoral people. The men, both whites and Indians, wear great baggy trousers, not unlike a couple of potato sacks; these are tied to the leg above the shoe by a leather strap or cord. From the discoloration of some of these trousers, I would not be surprised to hear that they came over with the Spanish Conquistadores.

At daybreak of the second day, a train was ferried across the Alto ParanÁ River to Pacu Cua. The only change that I noticed relative to the train, and this was only a detail, was that the beer now served was not the vile concoction brewed in Buenos Aires but a clear amber liquid, purer in substance and fresh from the brewery of Villa Encarnacion.

The Paraguayan landscape, until the half-way station of Borja is reached, is a great semi-swampy plain with low hills and ridges covered with tropical undergrowth, here known as "islands." By speaking of this plain as swampy, I do not mean that it is under water, for such is not the case; some seasons of the year it is quite dry and after heavy rains only it is soggy. It is always passable, but is overgrown with swamp grass. Countless herds of cattle pasture here; otherwise it is uninhabitable. It contains many lakes and lagoons alive with wild ducks, plover, curlew, herons, and other water fowl; wild geese fly overhead, and when a clump of bushes is passed it is a common sight to see the dark plumed, heavy limbed ÑandÚ, the native ostrich, shading itself under a bough on these wooded islets. Rising from the plain are many huts, the estancias of the natives, half hidden by the foliage. They are built of cane, plastered over, and with thatched roofs.

At Borja the junction for the village of Charara, the scenery changes. The land now high and dry is intersected by numerous rivers. Mountains appear to the north, and from here to Asuncion the country has a well-settled character with numerous well-built villages. Civilization in Paraguay started from Asuncion and followed the high ridge of land eastward. The railroad built from Asuncion to Paraguari is one of the oldest in South America. From Paraguari onward to Borja, civilization preceded the railroad.

Villa Rica has 34,297 inhabitants according to a Paraguayan estimate. Personally I think that this should be cut in two. It is a mile northeast of the depot. At a station named Tebicuary is a sugar mill; at Caballero are the railroad shops.

Scene from Railroad Station at Villa Rica

Paraguari, the anti-bellum terminus of the Central Paraguay Railroad, has, according to the census 11,328 inhabitants, although I am doubtful if its population exceeds five thousand. It is situated in the extreme eastern end of the Pirayu valley. This valley is bound by great basaltic hills, some of which are mountains. Some are conical in shape, but the majority are huge hills, whose tops are great stone outcrops. The floor of the valley is high and a cool breeze is generally blowing. The clover and grain, together with the mountains and the church steeples, remind one of the scenery in Central Europe. Paraguari would be the best situated city in Paraguay for its capital, both from a natural location and from a military point of view. It was the camping ground of the Argentine army under General Belgrano in 1811. Formerly the Jesuits had a large stock ranch here.

The railroad, formerly owned by the government, but now controlled by a Portuguese, had originally a six-foot gauge. The depots in the villages from Paraguari to Asuncion are large and old-fashioned like the pictures of those stations depicted in Harper's Weekly Civil War Scenes. Their mere duplicates to-day are to be seen in some European cities such as those at Caen, Bar-le-Duc, Vicenza, the old station at Strassburg, and in the American cities of Savannah and Macon. The English company which had control of the railroad before this Portuguese got it narrowed the gauge down to the regulation broad gauge standard which is narrower than that of the Central Argentina and several other lines in that republic.

The Republic of Paraguay is divided into twenty districts exclusive of Asuncion. I am giving their names and population together with those of their capitals and their population according to the estimate of 1917 in HÉctor F. Decoud's Geografia de la Republica del Paraguay, Asuncion, 1917. The population of these district capitals includes the commune as well as the town, for with the exception of six cities, Asuncion, Villa Rica, CaazapÁ, Villa Encarnacion, Villa Concepcion, and Villa del Pilar there are no incorporated places in the republic:—

	Population	Capital	Population
1st District	38,580	Villa Concepcion	15,600
2d District	46,425	Villa de San Pedro	9,926
3d District	43,195	Altos	9,715
4th District	34,764	Barrero Grande	10,643
5th District	35,182	San JosÉ	9,120
6th District	22,274	Ajos	7,283
7th District	34,297	Villa Rica	34,297
8th District	29,886	Hiaty	8,096
9th District	31,531	CaazapÁ	17,531
10th District	32,418	Yuti	11,953
11th District	26,978	Villa Encarnacion	13,496
12th District	37,965	San Ignacio	6,621
13th District	24,535	Ibicui	11,203
14th District	33,454	Quiindy	12,943
15th District	46,822	Paraguari	11,328
16th District	32,720	ItagoÁ	9,932
17th District	41,435	Luque	17,996
18th District	43,633	ItÁ	13,429
19th District	20,843	Villa Oliva	4,504
20th District	48,193	Villa del Pilar	7,229
Asuncion (est)	125,000

Total population, 828,130 inhabitants exclusive of about 50,000 wild Indians living in the Gran Chaco.

The population of Asuncion has been estimated from 80,000 to 125,000 inhabitants. Personally I think that 100,000 would be more nearly correct. Asuncion of 1918 is an entirely different city from Asuncion in 1913, so great has been the visible improvement. This is largely due to the enlightened ideas of the ex-dictator, Don Eduardo Schaerer, a Swiss by birth, and who has infused European progressiveness into the Paraguayan nation, whose population was rapidly being exterminated by forty-five years of incessant revolutions on top of a five years' war which cost Paraguay five hundred thousand lives. Schaerer has showed that he is the man for the job. His rule has been benign but firm. No sooner had he assumed the executive power than some of his dissatisfied opponents tried the tricks on him that have been tried on other dictators. This time they failed. The bomb that they touched off underneath his residence failed to explode. The conspirators and other suspects were immediately clapped into jail. January 1, 1915, witnessed the close of two years' peace; it was too much of a good thing for the fire-eating populace so they started another revolution. This lasted but one day, the revolutionists losing over three hundred men in a street fight in Asuncion. No more tricks have been tried on SeÑor Schaerer.

In Asuncion there live numerous ex-presidents, ex-dictators, and their political henchmen. No matter who is president of any country, there are always a number of people who have grievances against the administration, but I have only heard one person express anything derogatory against Schaerer. This man, very prominent in Asuncion, and the son of an ex-president, said that Schaerer owed his power as Chief Executive to the Farquhar Syndicate whose money placed him there in order for them to obtain in return valuable concessions. He said that Schaerer was not president for his health, but was amassing a fortune on the side. If this is true, it is nothing extraordinary, but as far as I can glean, he is one of the most able presidents the country has ever had. Results show it. Paraguay has a good constitution, but it is never used. Changes have been constantly made to suit the whims of each dictator. The presidential term is for three years. Schaerer's term should have expired November 25, 1915, but he saw to it that there would be no elections and two years after that date he retained his office.

Since SeÑor Schaerer became president, there have been many changes for the better in Asuncion. Formerly one had to go to the post office to mail a letter; now letter-boxes are on nearly every corner. The stranger is no longer subjected to surveillance, neither are his valises searched in the hotels, nor are his letters opened and read in the post office before transmission. The police have new crash uniforms as well as many of the soldiers; previously their garments were nondescript. It is necessary in Paraguay to maintain a semblance of an army, for otherwise a dictator's life would hang on the thread of Damocles. In order to pay this army, the present government was obliged to sell their two gunboats, as the country is in a bad financial condition. Its unit, the peso fuerte is worth only 2½ cents American currency. Five years ago it was worth 7 cents. This depreciation of money is current all over the southern republics of South America with the exception of Uruguay and Argentina. The Chilean peso was worth 23 cents in 1913; now it is worth 17 cents; the Brazilian milreis which was then worth 33? cents is worth now only 25 cents. In Brazil, and in Chile although the currency depreciated, the price of articles dropped in ratio, so that now in those countries the articles for sale can be bought cheaper than formerly. Not so in Paraguay. When the peso fuerte took a drop, the staple goods remained the same in price, so now a person has to pay three pesos for what formerly cost him but one.

The electric lighting system of Asuncion is excellent, and it now has the best trolley car service of any South American city. Every principal street has car tracks and the tramcars run in the daytime every five minutes. There is also a suburban system. Before Schaerer's ascendancy, the city had mule cars, and a suburban steam road that ran through the streets of the city, as in Debreczen, Hungary, the engine of which puffed and emitted much smoke to the tune of squeaks and much whistling. The lawn is kept up in front of the Capitol; new streets have been opened and paved; statues have been unveiled in public places, and there has been considerable building done.

Casa de Gobierno, or Capitol, Asuncion

At first sight, Asuncion seems small. This is due to the grass that grows between the stones of the street pavement, and to the fact that cows graze in the plazas. On account of the richness of the soil and the frequent rains it is impossible to keep vegetation down. Unfortunately the plazas are not well kept up, and have gone to waste and ruin. The city is compactly built, and covers considerable ground. Like Belgrade, Servia, it is built on the side of a hill; like Belgrade the stores are similar in window decorations, for their proprietors specialize in displaying there articles that are favorite to the Paraguayan mind as well as to the Servian: firearms and knives. There are a few large buildings of modern construction, but what is most observant are the colonnades of pillars and piers which support the roofs. If a building has no colonnade along the street, it is sure to have one around the patio. These colonnades are built thus (see drawing).

Pillars (fig. b) lower than the main wall (fig. a) are erected about twelve feet or less in front of it. Across the tops of these pillars and connecting them lies a beam (fig. c) from which rafters (fig. d) at regular intervals slant up to the top of the wall of the building. Horizontally across these rafters are laid stringers (fig. e) about a foot apart. On top of these stringers are laid tiles (fig. f). In many cases a thin layer of bricks is laid across the stringers, above which are laid the tiles.

The worst feature of Asuncion is the paving of the streets. Black flint stones of all sizes and shape are pounded tightly into the ground, and their crevices are filled with the red earth of the country; they are then treated with a coating of dirt. For the first three months this pavement makes excellent driving. Then when the copious rains have washed the dirt out, the stones settle or are loosened. An occasional wagon-wheel knocks one out of place, and it is seldom replaced. Incessant wear now makes ruts among the loosened stones, and in the part of the road where there is not much traffic, vegetation grows up, likewise forcing the stones up. The city is built on the side of a hill sloping down to a lagoon which is separated from the Paraguay River by a swamp. There are no conduits to carry away the rain water, nor any ditches at the sides of the streets. Accordingly when it rains, the water runs down the hill through the crevices between the paving stones, and by the time it reaches the main street, Calle Palmas, the side streets are turned into rivers. Eave troughs project horizontally from the roofs over the streets, and the pedestrians have a choice between two evils, walking in the flowing road or getting a dousing from many hydrants.

With the exception of an English church in the suburbs and a German Lutheran one in the city, both of which are so small that it seems a shame to rank them under the title of church, there are only three Houses of God in Asuncion, the cathedral, San Roque, and that of the Church of the Encarnacion. The cathedral is an old, weather-beaten affair facing the lagoon. San Roque is very old and faces a small plaza of the same name behind the railway station. The most imposing building in the city is the mammoth unfinished red brick pile which goes by the name of the Church of the Encarnacion. If ever completed it will hold a place among the world's great religious edifices. It is built on the summit of the hill above the business section of the city and is a landmark for many miles. It is reached by a double flight of steps from the street. It was started during the reign of Francia, and the money having long since given out, it is left but half completed. It is built very solidly of tightly fitting red brick, and was intended to be stuccoed over. A place is left for a tower each side of the main door but they have never been commenced. The interior is plain, has been given a fresh coat of plaster, and exudes the funereal tuberose smell which is present in the casino at Monte Carlo to counteract the aroma of corpses in the private morgue beneath the roulette room of that establishment. As matters now stand the Church of the Encarnacion is a hideous pile. The earthly remains of Dr. Gaspar Rodrigues de Francia, Paraguay's most famous dictator, 1816-1840, were buried beneath the vestibule of this church. The relatives of a person whom he had executed had his bones dug up and desecrated them by flinging them into the lagoon.

The plazas of Asuncion are a disgrace to the city. The Plaza Uruguaya is the largest. It is planted with trees which are scattered at random. A brick wall separates one side of it from the street. At the opposite side is the large, graceful, colonnaded, battle-scarred railway station with its illuminated clock tower. Pedestrians avoid traversing this plaza after nightfall on account of footpads, many of whom would commit murder for a paper peso. In the center of the plaza stand the fragments of a marble statue shot to pieces in the revolution of 1904. The Plaza de la Republica is on top of the high banks that skirt the swampy ground that forms the shores of the lagoon. In some places it is like a big field, especially that part of it in front of the artillery barracks where it is the dumping ground of tin cans and refuse, and is traversed by cattle paths. Near the House of Congress, a morbid appearing porticoed edifice, it assumes the nature of a lawn which in turn becomes a park in front of the ancient cathedral. In this plaza is a cheap looking brick column named the Statue of Liberty. This monument is surmounted by the image of San Blas, the patron saint of Paraguay, in whose honor is celebrated on February 3d of each year an orgy that beggars description. The base of the statue has the dates of different events and revolutions painted in black letters on each of its four faces. One of these dates tells the reader that Asuncion was founded August 15, 1536. Another date tells of the ousting of the Spanish domination. A third one informs us of the end of Francia's rule, while the fourth bears testimony of the end of the reign of Lopez II.

One of the features that attracts the eyes of strangers is that there is scarcely a building in the downtown district that is not pitted with holes from a Gatling gun. In some sections whole walls have been shot away by cannon balls. One of the beautiful trees common to Paraguay is the dark fern-leaved paraiso tree. There are a great many of these in Asuncion, especially in the Plaza San Roque. Their foliage is thick and gives delightful shade.

One of the landmarks is the brick domed basilica on the Calle Palmas called the Oratory of Lopez. The tyrant had it built for the receptacle of the image of the Virgin of the Assumption (Asuncion). The Five Years' War came on, and the oratory was never completed. It stands to-day without a coat of stucco, with the carpenters' scantling around its dome in the same condition now as when work suddenly ceased in 1865. It is owned by the government which is too poor to complete it; its floor is used for the storage of municipal timber, brick, plaster, and so forth, in charge of an ancient pensioner. Bats roost beneath its dome, and the amberÉ lizards crawl between the cracks of the bricks. The oratory is surrounded by a wall over which projects a papaya tree whose luscious golden fruit, shaped like a woman's teat, hangs in pendulent clusters from its crown. This fruit is known in Paraguay as mamon which in the Guarani language means tit.

The Asuncenos are early risers. The stores open at 6 A.M., and an hour later is when the greatest crowds are to be found on the streets. The stores close again at 11 A.M., and remain so till 2 P.M. They close for the day at 7 P.M., and remain shut all day Sunday as well as on the numerous holidays. During the three midday hours there is hardly a person to be seen on the streets. Asuncion is never activity, excepting during periods of revolution and at the annual yearly carnival; on Sundays the liveliness of the streets can be compared with that of the interior of a cemetery receiving vault. It is a trifle better than Valparaiso, Chile, or Detroit, Michigan, on those days because at least the cafÉs are open. The amusements of the city are paltry, the main one being to sit evenings in one's shirt-sleeves on a chair placed on the sidewalk in front of one's residence and by the illumination of the electric lights watch the great cucurÚs (large, disgusting looking native toads) hop along the sidewalk in search of bugs. The other amusements are two moving picture shows, one at Belvedere and the other at the CafÉ Bolsa.

The climate of Asuncion is hot, terribly so, and damp. In heat it compares very favorably with Panama. It is enervating and gives the people amorous inclinations, especially when it blows from the north and east. Many foreigners cannot become acclimated on account of their inability in adapting themselves to a change in their mode of life, and many of the wives of foreign diplomats have to return home on account of the heat. Many people have red spots on their faces and bodies caused by the heat. The hottest month is December. The rainfall is heavy, and in Asuncion it is regular. March is the wettest month, with April and October following in order. July is the driest month. The average annual rainfall is 60.2 inches. (The average for Detroit is 37 inches.) The driest year recorded in Asuncion was 1883 when 44.7 inches fell and the wettest year was 1878 with a precipitation of 101.9 inches. The rains are of short duration, but several are apt to occur in one day. They are tropical and come straight down in sheets as if a bucket of water had been turned upside down in the sky. These rains, which are heaviest in summer, come up suddenly, and if there are any clouds to be seen, it is advisable to carry an umbrella for it often happens that these showers are local, there being a great downpour in one part of the town and no rainfall at all in the other. After and between rains, the sun comes out and steam arises from the earth. Many a hacking cough heard from behind the shutters of a window and many a gob of phlegm seen on the street sidewalk has its origin from this climatic change. Hurricanes are unknown although water spouts are an occasional phenomenon. The thunder makes terrific crashings, and at each loud blast, the inhabitants make the sign of the cross. Even on days when it does not rain, the sky is frequently overcast and the atmosphere has the muggy feeling that is always present before a storm.

Perspiration runs from one in streams, not like the heavy sweat of the hard-working laborer but a malodorous vitality sapping sweat which takes the place of urine, making it necessary to change one's under-clothing several times daily and to indulge in frequent shower or sponge baths. For the omnipresent prickly heat, one should never besmear himself with ointment nor take cold baths; these have the tendency to augment it. One should bathe in warm or lukewarm water. Clothes sent to the laundry come back damp and the bed linen seldom dries. The houses are covered with a black mold which no amount of frequent painting can stop coming back. During the summer if you draw your finger across the wall of a church interior it will leave a streak on the dampness. Regardless of the heat, for sanitation's sake, hot air furnaces should be installed in the hotels and residences and a drying out should be given them once a week.

With the rains come myriads of bugs and beetles. A black-winged one, half as big as a saucer, whose aviation produced a noise like a rip-saw, assailed me one night while at dinner in the Hotel Hispano-Americano. It flew on my coat, and as I tried to brush it away it implanted a sting on the back of my hand that made me wince in agony. A lady, at a neighboring table, thought it was funny, for she smiled at my discomfiture. God punished her, for presently a huge green darning-needle shaped bug lighted on her neck and the sting it gave her made her emit squawks that rivaled in rancorousness those of a carrion crow. Bugs, beetles, reptiles, etc., the Paraguayans and Correntinos call bich and the large ones they call gran bich without any distinction as to their specie. A person cannot fondle with impunity the cucurÚ as one can the common American garden toad. The cucurÚ will bite you and then close its jaws. It has to be killed to pry its mouth apart and its bite is said to be poisonous. The suburban sidewalks of Asuncion teem with them evenings. The village of AreguÁ near Asuncion is especially prolific in this variety of amphibian. It would not take many of them to fill a bushel basket. I got about a dozen of these by dropping my hat over them and chloroforming them. I had them stuffed and brought them home as mantelpiece presents for my friends. Paraguay is also abundant in ophidians; the nasty, poisonous mboy-chumbÉ or black, white, and red-ringed coral snakes being the most common. There is mboy-jhoby, a green snake; the Ñuazo, a dark brown snake; the viper; the ÑanduriÉ, a small stick-like snake and the rattlesnake are common venomous species, while the huge boa, or curiyu, and the mboy-yaguÁ, or water snake, belong to the unpoisonous kind. The great viper called ÑacaninÁ is semi-poisonous. Among the quelonians is the carumbÉ a Brobdingnagian snapping turtle and in the hydrosaurian class is the crocodile, cayman alligator, and the iguana or teyÚ, the latter being esteemed for its white meat not unlike spring chicken in taste.

There are two species of jaguar called tiger by the natives, the aguaretÉ and the yaguaretÉ-popÉ. The word jaguar is derived from the Guarani yaguaretÉ. There are several kinds of wild-cat, misnamed by the natives "lions," plenty of tapirs or mborevi, ant-eaters, wild pigs, armadillos, deer, monkeys, besides many species of phlebotomists such as the vampire-bat and the common belfry-bat. The trees are alive with owls, macaws, parrots, toucans, zorzals, and wild-pigeons, while in the swamps and clearings are found egrets, martinets, sarias, cassowaries, flamingoes, herons, and ibises.

Asuncion has several fair hotels; the best in my estimation being the Hotel Hispano-Americano, the property of the firm of Rius & Jorba which is rented to the present proprietors, the Grau Brothers, two Spaniards, to the tune of ten dollars a day, which, for Asuncion, is an exorbitant sum. This hotel is not recommended to strangers by the natives for the innate jealousy that the average South American has for the Spaniard, who is his business superior, is not lacking in Paraguay. The foreigners recommend to the stranger the Hotel Saint-Pierre, a French hotel, or the Cancha (formerly the Gran Hotel del Paraguay), a stock company hotel under German management.

The Hispano-Americano was built by the dictator, Francisco Solano Lopez for his mistress, Madame Elisa Lynch, and here he lived with her and here were his offsprings by her brought up. As I lay in my bed, or walked the arched galleries of this edifice, I could nearly see the festivities, banquets, and parties that took place in the great salon (now the dining room) fifty-three years ago, hear the laughter of the beautiful women in hoop skirts and the popping of corks of champagne bottles, and smell the somniferous perfume of the Ñandeyara-guazÚs (high grade Paraguayan cigars) as their aroma was wafted upwards with the smoke. Visions came to me of officers, their uniforms resplendent with epaulettes and gold braid, brave men who met valiant deaths on the field of battle or through exposure in the soggy palmetto and mangrove swamps of the interior, of foreign diplomats, of dark, beautiful women wearing delicate, luxuriant Ñanduti lace shawls, of the short and corpulent bearded dictator with the perpetual strong cigar between his lips, and of the Irish asp, his mistress, whose power and influence upon her naturally progressive and ambitious paramour was greater than that of Theodora on Justinian. J. F. Masterman in his Seven Years' Adventures in Paraguay states that Madame Lynch could drink more champagne than any person he ever knew and not seem to feel any effects therefrom. I would like to have matched her in a contest with a friend of mine, now dead, whom I saw drink six quarts of champagne one after another standing at a bar in San Francisco one evening in September, 1910.

The Hispano-Americano is a large structure two stories high of imposing appearance on a corner of Calle Palmas, the main street. It is well situated for it is near all the banks, business houses, and government buildings. It has a large patio paved with black and white tiles, where the dining tables are placed. Bedrooms open off from this patio. On each side of the entrance thirty-four marble steps lead up to the second story which has a balcony surrounding the patio, the arches of which are supported by stone Doric columns. Onto this balcony open tile-floored, high, and cool bedrooms. The balcony is paved with brick and from it rise more Doric columns surmounted by arches which support the roof. There is a second patio, this one open, which is reached by a short hall behind the first patio. On this are the cheaper rooms. On my former visit this hotel was not well kept up nor overclean, but now it was all that could be desired and the Paraguayan cooking, with its abundance of oil, peppers, tomatoes, and hot sauces, was excellent.

The proprietors own two Case automobiles, and one evening as I sat in conversation with the SeÑor Grau, who assumes the active management of the hotel, he suggested that I should take a ride with him for a couple of hours. This was fine and I hastened to accept. The machine was brought in front of the door, Grau and myself had got into it, when the assistant manager came out and said something in an undertone to Grau. The latter replied in a loud voice:

"Give everybody a room that asks for one except the Spanish consul. Give him nothing."

I thought this was queer but said nothing, thinking that later on Grau would explain what was up. He did not do so, however, until we returned which was about ten o'clock at night. There were about a dozen people in front of the hotel; on the threshold stood a tall, thin, good-looking man about thirty-five years old, dressed in black. When Grau got out this man approached him and said:

"What is the matter with this fellow?" pointing at the assistant manager. "He refuses to give me a room."

"My instructions!" bellowed Grau. "You can get nothing here!"

A small crowd began to collect. The Spanish consul, for he was the tall man in black, asked Grau to explain.

"Explain nothing!" yelled Grau. "You can get no more service here. You have come to this hotel three or four different times, each time with a different woman, and each time you have registered as man and wife. How many wives have you anyway? I am not running a house of prostitution. What do you take me for? Get out!"

There was a general peal of laughter from the crowd at this. The Spanish consul, unabashed, with a smile walked away, stating that there were other hotels in the town, where he could take his women, that were just as good as Grau's and that he would do so now.

The Hotel Saint-Pierre is near the harbor on the Calle Colon, a cheap business street. Many people prefer it for their sojourn in Asuncion as it has the reputation for having the best cooking. In this respect I found it lacking in the abundance and in the variety of that of the Hispano-Americano. There is no bar; the rooms are small, and the proprietor frequently tells the guests to retire to their rooms by a side entrance as he is engaged entertaining friends in the hotel parlor and main entrance. The proprietor is named Saint-Pierre, hence the name of the hotel. He claims to be a French count, but the consensus of most people is that he is crazy. He is a little, bald-headed old man about sixty-five years old, with a gray moustache and imperial. He orders the guests around as if he was bestowing upon them a favor for allowing them to get lodging there. Many people desiring to obtain rooms there are expected to furnish a pedigree. Colonel David Brainard, U. S. A., military attachÉ to the United States Embassy at Buenos Aires, a very distinguished man and one of the survivors of the famous Greely expedition that attempted to discover the North Pole some time ago, was on an extended trip through Paraguay with his friends. From Villa Rica he telegraphed to Monsieur le comte de Saint-Pierre engaging rooms. The latter worthy before he would allow his distinguished guests-to-be to take up their domicile at his establishment looked up their character and antecedents much to the amusement and disgust of Colonel Brainard and friends.

The Gran Hotel del Paraguay occupies several single story buildings in a large lawn on a hill, a twenty minutes' ride by cab from the business section of Asuncion. For a man it is too far away to be handy, but it is an ideal place for ladies with yarn to knit and novels to read. The American consul rooms there. The bad feature of this hotel is that the pedestrian at night in walking or driving there should never take his finger from the trigger of his Derringer, for thieves often lurk behind the giant locust trees on the Avenida EspaÑa. After 2 A.M. the street lights go out; walking then up the umbrageous road is nearly impossible.

Natives stop at the Hotels Kosmos, EspaÑol, Palermo, and other similar dumps conducive to vermin, mosquitoes, and malodorous toilets.

A Dutchman runs an excellent high-class pension named Villa Colombia, where Argentine highbrows such as Don Nicolas Mihanovich sojourn while visiting the city. This is in a large lawn across the street from the Belvedere gardens. While I was in Asuncion, there was a big hullabaloo because some thief stole eleven thousand dollars which the Dutchman had hidden in an envelope in his residence.

The Capitol is a large barnlike rambling building with broad verandas and is crowned with a square cupola. It was built by Carlos Antonio Lopez and is the pride of the inhabitants; its picture adorns the postage stamps of high denominations and also the two peso paper currency.

Asuncion is the only South American city which has stone sidewalks. They were originally built during the regime of Lopez I., who was the patron of modernity. Asuncion as well as Villa Encarnacion has brick sidewalks like the Massachusetts towns. The bricks and tile are of good quality and shape. The brick layers and stone masons do better work here than in Argentina and the rough brick buildings do not look as dilapidated as in the last named republic. The red soil of Paraguay is adapted to the manufacture of good bricks and a specie is turned out akin to Bradford red.

There are three breweries in Paraguay: the one owned by Bosio Brothers being the large fine one at the port. There is a branch brewery at a suburb named Puerto Sanjonia which is now closed down. This brewery and that of the Cerveceria Montevideana at Montevideo, Uruguay, brew the best beer in South America. The 14 de Mayo brewery at Villa Encarnacion likewise turns out a good product and there is a small German brewery at San Bernardino in whose beer spring water is used. This last mentioned brewery caters solely to family and local trade like that of Ahrens in CÓrdoba and those of Peters and of Degen in San Antonio, Texas. The Asuncion drinking water of the hotels is the limit. They have no wells but instead they have tanks on their roofs to catch the rain water. These tanks are never cleaned and the sides are covered with green fungus. A dead cat bloated beyond recognition was found in the tank of the Hispano-Americano. I drank the water without knowing it. At home we eat frog's legs. The Asuncenos delight in eating the body of the cucurÚs, the great garden toad. The Chaco Indians rejoice in stewed monkey and fried slices of gran vibora, a snake peculiar to that swamp, while the iguana is held in edible estimation by the white population. Locust pies and boiled parrot also find their way down the alimentary canals of the aborigines.

The two places of the greatest interest to the stranger in Asuncion are the cemetery of Mangrullo and the market-place. The former is located beyond the city limits on the road to Puerto Sajonia. It is on a high-road hill from which an excellent panorama can be had of the city, the river, and the Chaco beyond. The origin of the name is unknown, but the word "Mangrullo" is always used to denote the military lookout tower.

This cemetery is redolent with the thoughts of spooks, banshee, ghosts, and other phantomic gentry of like species. In daytime it is a lugubrious place nearly surrounded by high walls, from above which tower slender cypress trees, and at night it must be doubly so, especially when the moon plays on the mortuary chapel from the tree limbs. This cemetery is where the poor people are buried; the wealthy are interred in the aristocratic Recoleta.

On the path, long before reaching Mangrullo, wailing is heard coming from within the enclosure. At the entrance seated on the ground are aged women selling fruit with poguazÚ cigars in their mouths. A leper or two adds charm to the scene. They are not begging, but expect everyone waiting for somebody to slip a peso bill (2½ c.) into their spotted hands. From the iron entrance, the only road in the cemetery leads to the chapel in the center. Black clothed persons wander ghoulishly among the tombstones, their hats in their hands. A concourse of people is assembled in front of the building. Nearby is a wooden tower, and on a platform underneath its roof a hunchback is ringing the bell, making it peal at slow intervals. The bell stops and the wailing of the bare-headed assembly begins. This lasts about five minutes; the hunchback then tolls the bell anew, this time in a rapid succession of clangs. The men lift up the rude box containing the dead person from which the olfactory aroma of putrid flesh arises and carrying it to the shallow grave, they bury it to the tune of the great bell which has again started ringing. When the bell stops, the women start wailing again and the men stand aside to smoke, talk politics, and watch the scene. The wailing is not caused so much through grief as it is to see who can make the loudest noise.

A woman had lost her two weeks' old baby and her relations as far removed as the fourth generation of cousin had come to mourn. The shrieks emitted were not human. They sounded more like the snarling and growling of animals, the howling of hyenas and ululations of owls. The women worked themselves into a frenzy of hysteria, and the bereaved mother threw herself on the grave and, lying on her back, kicked, struggled, and writhed until she became unconscious through her own emotions. One of these wailing fests that I witnessed came to a sudden and untimely end. While the family and relatives of a murdered man had reached a soprano in the shrieking test, a ÑacaninÁ (large viper) crawled from a hole beneath a tombstone and, frightened at the lugubrious wails, attempted to escape by safely crawling away. It took its course among the mourners, and the hurried scamper of footsteps to the tune of blasphemous and ungodly oaths was now the order of the funeral aftermath.

The graves in the Mangrullo cemetery are so multitudinous and so close together that it is impossible for a funeral procession to reach the newly dug grave without crossing numerous mounds. There are but few monuments, iron crosses painted black taking their places. Iron fences surround the graves of those who have well-to-do relatives. But few inscriptions tell the age of the beloved deceased; instead there hangs at each cross a photograph likeness of the dead.

The market-place of Asuncion probably offers more attractions to the stranger than in any other city. It is situated in the middle of the town and has a large covered frame building where meats are hung. Making a circumvallation of the butcher shop are benches where sit women, white, black, Indian, and mixed breed, offering for sale cigars of their own manufacture. Outside on the ground squat the rabble who cannot afford a chair at the benches. They sell parrakeets, divers song-birds, the succulent stubby native banana, curiously shaped peppers, avocados, herbs, pineapples, and cooked viands. At the entrance to the market are kiosks where caÑa or native rum is dispensed. At 8:00 A.M. the market-place represents great animation. Lazy, fat lousy dogs, hundreds in number, their bellies gorged with rare meat and offal, lie in glutinous stupor in the aisles and under the shade of large stationary umbrellas. They lick the grease from the roasted meat for sale and urinate in the frying pans. Ignorant natives purchase these meat roasts and greedily devour it, unconscious of its flavoring. This is the one place in Asuncion where meat and fresh vegetables are for sale, and the private families and hotel guests are obliged to partake of it or starve.

But few foreign women visit Asuncion; it should be their paradise because here for a song can be purchased the Ñanduti, the most delicate silk and cotton embroidery in existence woven by the native women. This wonderful texture represents much labor and is in great demand. The guayaba flower is a popular design, a round blossom with a starlike center. Stuffed alligators and cucurÚs adorn the store windows and live parrots sell for a few cents apiece. In buying a parrot, one should previously enlist the services of a native. Birds under one year are most precious and those with the yellow head command the highest price. In order to make the old birds appear wild and hearty, the natives feed them with rum. This makes them flutter and their antics then create a grand show off. En voyage a few days later they die of old age and the innocent purchaser is unaware that rum was used to produce unnatural activity. It is better to purchase parrakeets in Buenos Aires because the pick of Paraguay is exported to the bird stores on the Calle Moreno. At San Bernardino can be bought lovely egrets and butterfly wings. Monkeys cannot stand transportation and soon die.

The physicians of Asuncion are poor and but few hold genuine degrees. Every bowel or stomach complaint that the patient gets, they are likely to diagnose as appendicitis, and they are anxious to operate with dirty instruments which they carry loosely in their pockets. I know of a case of a woman having a dull pain high up on her left side which they claimed was appendicitis and they wanted to operate on her for it, telling her it was a reflex pain, when in reality it was nothing but a common fatty tumor.

One of the curses in Asuncion and so acknowledged by the English residents are the missionaries from Australia classed as the Plymouth Brethren, which belief is akin to that of the Methodists. No missionaries are needed in Paraguay. These Plymouth Brethren, numbering two families, were sent to Asuncion with free transportation and a monthly salary of twenty pounds to teach religion to the poor benighted heathen which there does not exist. They hold services at their pleasure in a room in their houses to a congregation that scarcely reaches six in number. The remainder of their time they spend in indolent ease, for a person in Asuncion can live like a king on one hundred dollars per month. One of the chief Paraguayan industries is the manufacture of cigars. The native women make two classes, the poguazÚ and pohÍ. The first mentioned are long, large, strong cigars which sell at 2½ c. per half dozen. This is a favorite one with the native women who invariably have one poked half-way down their muzzle, the ashy end just protruding. The pohÍs are small cigars with outside wrapper grown from Havana seed. They are more aromatic and sell for 2½ c. a dozen. The factories made five cigars, that of La Veguera turning out one named "Don Alfonso" which sells for 120 pesos ($3) for twenty-five, or 12 c. apiece. This same brand sells in Buenos Aires for 50 c. apiece and is equal to the best Havanas that sell in the United States for $1 apiece. The Ñandeyara guazÚ is a fine cigar that sells for 30 pesos (75 c.) a hundred. Paraguay is a smoker's paradise and the advantage of the tobacco is that it never causes sore spots on the tongue nor any other vocal irritation.

The inhabitants are extremely lazy, and on the estancias the men live in indolent ease, their many concubines doing the real labor. Strangers living in Paraguay become in time like the natives, taking their siesta at noon and putting off all work until the morrow. The business is in the hands of the Spaniards, Germans, and Italians. There are over five thousand Germans in the republic but like the Spaniard they are unpopular with the natives. There is much wealth in Asuncion according to the Paraguayan standard but very little according to the European standard. The town teems with millionaires but a million pesos Paraguayan amounts to only twenty-five thousand dollars. These people can make a great splurge and live in great style in Asuncion where food is plentiful and good, qualifying a luxury. The women of these people assume great airs. There are only two real millionaires according to their wealth in North American currency. One is Saccarello, an Italian estanciero and the other is Jorba, a Spaniard, who has a general store and who is an extensive exporter with an office in Barcelona. Angulo, another exporter and storekeeper, is wealthy as well as Urrutia and Uguarte, bankers; but these last named people are not millionaires. For $7500 can be built a palace of a house. Land is cheap all over the republic. There is a market for all native products which are lumber, cattle, mandioca, sugar cane, tobacco, yerba matÉ, and tannic acid. But little is exported on account of the scarcity of labor for the men will not work. What labor there is, is cheap. For example, the old Spaniard who is bartender, table waiter, floor sweeper, and general factotum of the Hotel Hispano-Americano only receives $10 a month, with practically no income from tips. With this, he supports his English wife and four children. Poverty in Paraguay is unknown. About 5000 acres of rich soil can be purchased for $10,000.

Paraguay is one of the few South American countries which has iron but as yet it is not exploited, although in the period of the Five Years' War it furnished material from which the cannon were manufactured in Asuncion. The language of the country is Guarani, phonetic, expressive and rich in vowels. Foreigners learn it easily and it is the vernacular of all excepting those people dealing with strangers. The newspaper was formerly published in it and Lopez was at one time thinking seriously of making it the official language of the country. Outside of Asuncion it is essentially spoken throughout the country and in certain districts Spanish is of no avail.

Some of the Asuncenas are gems. If the reader of this work has previously read my South American Travels he may remember of my stating that I saw in the telegraph office in Asuncion, working as clerks, two of the most beautiful girls that I have ever gazed upon. This time while in the city I returned to the telegraph office ostensibly to send a message, but in reality to see if the same maidens were still on the job. The youngest was there, a marvelous work of God, but three years' lapse of time had slightly undermined her beauty. Although we had seen each other but one brief moment before and had met thousands of people in the interval, recognition was at once mutual. I told her how beautiful she was, how she attracted me and how I longed to make her acquaintance. She reciprocated my attentions, told me that her name was Marcelina Espinosa and that I had permission to call on her. This happened on the eve of my departure for Motto Grosso, and I assured her that when I returned to Asuncion in the course of two months that I certainly should avail myself of the pleasure of her kind invitation.

Not wishing to seem egotistical in making this statement, I was not long in Asuncion, before I discovered that I appealed to Paraguayan womanhood. Oftentimes of an evening while passing along the residential streets I would notice women in the act of closing the doors or the shutters. On seeing me they would desist from this occupation and regard me longingly and sympathetically until I had disappeared from sight. At a printing establishment which had picture postal cards for sale, a fine looking woman on whose face was depicted latent passions which only needed encouragement to become a reality, waited on me. As I paid her for a trivial purchase, she let her hand linger in mine looking at me appealingly for reciprocation.

An old native woman in the market-place admired a gold ring with jade setting which I always wear as a lucky stone. She was not content only in admiring it, but she went through the market and got her friends to come and look at it. Many of these were comely girls. They not knowing that I understood a word of Guarani remarked on its beauty, and then fell to discussing me in most charming terms.

Although most Paraguayans are born out of wedlock, the inhabitants are not immoral. Like the majority of Latin Americans they are unmoral because they never had any morals to begin with. It is quite the thing in Asuncion for men forty years old and more to have lustful intentions on twelve-year old girls. Women frequently marry at fourteen years of age, but men seldom do so before they are thirty years old. Many women remain single for there are nine women to every man in Paraguay, owing to the decimation of the latter in the numerous revolutions that have taken place, and with such a disproportionate ratio on the side of the women, it is easy for the men to satisfy their desires without marriage. Excepting among the highest social classes virtue among women has no value and men who are old enough to be grandfathers lasciviously ogle girls that have scarcely reached the age of puberty. This great disparity of ages does not have the evil results that are often the case in colder countries. The women soon lose their good looks while the men seldom change until they reach old age. The girls for generations have been taught to marry men considerably older than themselves; thus the caned and bespatted young fops that haunt the cafÉs and moving picture shows are obliged to form mesalliances with young half-breed girls. The latter are too ignorant to make any objection to being seduced as they have been taught that it is the natural state of affairs. No matter how unmoral the people are, a Paraguayan girl is rarely to be found in a brothel. Many men going by different names are half brothers, having had the same mother but different fathers. As in all countries of lax morals, syphilis is rife. But very few of the inhabitants show outward symptoms of it, for it is so much inbred in the people that it has lost its virulence.

I had met on the train coming from Buenos Aires a man who was so Teutonic in appearance and in style of his clothes that I had supposed him to be fresh from Germany. He sat across from me at the table in the dining car after leaving Villa Encarnacion, and I was surprised to hear him answer "Chileno" when the Paraguayan immigration inspector asked him his nationality. He was the grandson of a German who had settled in Southern Chile. This man that I met was about forty years old and is so prominent in financial circles that his name is famous all over Southern Chile. He was now on his way to Asuncion to look over one of the two Paraguayan gunboats which the government wished to sell in order to obtain sufficient funds to pay off the army with. If the gunboat suited him he could have it shipped to Chile and have it remodeled as a freighter or a passenger ship. His name for obvious reasons I shall designate as M——.

SeÑor M—— was a very entertaining man, had traveled all over the world, and appeared to have a good knowledge of sociology. I invited him to the Hispano-Americano to have dinner with me and he in turn invited me to dine with him at the Saint-Pierre where he sojourned. We went a couple of times to the moving picture shows and to the Belvedere gardens. His discourse was always of the most moral and elevating character which was a marked contrast to that of the natives. One night I suggested that we should take in a vaudeville entertainment that was being staged at the Belvedere. He agreed and I went to the Hotel Saint-Pierre to meet him. As it was a nice evening he suggested that we should walk, although it was nearly two miles there. Soon after starting out, a tropical thunder storm, so common to southern latitudes, came up, and rain fell in such a deluge that we were obliged to take shelter in a doorway. The street became a veritable river and owing to the violence of the downpour the street cars stopped running. Just as suddenly as the storm had broken, it stopped. It was too wet to continue walking and as we were trying to arrive at a decision as to how we could best get to Belvedere, a little girl about fourteen years walked by. M—— noticed her and straightway walked out of the shelter where we were standing to say something to her. I supposed that he had gone to question her about the car service, but as they conversed at length and as I saw her smile, I thought I would walk up to see what the joke was. Imagine my astonishment when I heard M——, whom I had supposed to be so moral and before whom I was always choosing my language, in conversation with this child inducing her to allow him to seduce her. My astonishment was still greater when she accepted his approaches and walked off with him in the direction of the Hotel Saint-Pierre where we had just come from.

About two o'clock the next afternoon as I was returning to my hotel from a walk, I saw M—— on the marble stairs of the Hispano-Americano offering pecuniary inducements to any of the old women (none were under fifty) who daily sat on the bottom steps displaying Ñanduti embroidery for sale, if one would come up to a bedroom for a half hour. M—— did not make such a hit with these Ñanduti women as he did with the little native girl, for none would accept his terms.

I upbraided M—— roundly for his actions telling him that he should be ashamed of himself for making such propositions to young girls. "Es costumbre" ("It's the custom") he would answer, and that was all the excuse he could give for his actions. He informed me that he had discovered that the Paraguayan native was much like the Chilean of the lower stratum, and that for a few pesos he could "fix" any policeman or irate parent in Asuncion the same way as he could at his home town in Chile. This man thought he was doing nothing unnatural or to be ashamed of. I later found out that M—— was telling the truth as far as it was "costumbre," for Chile and Paraguay have among their respected citizens, men who emulate the same acts as M—— and are not arrested for them, while here in North America they would be safely behind the bars of some institution for doing the same thing.

About twenty miles northwest of Asuncion is the entrancing Lake Ypacara-i, twelve miles long by five broad. Its shores are dotted with the summer residences of the Asuncene aristocracy. San Bernardino is a German colony and is the most delectable place in all Paraguay. It is reached by train from Asuncion to AreguÁ, another summer resort where cars are changed. A couple of miles from AreguÁ is a station named Kendall, whence one can cross by launch to San Bernardino, where are located the Hotel del Lago and the Hotel Rasmussen, the first mentioned being the best. The scenery is beautifully pastoral and brings to one's mind Virgil's Bucolics, for here like the scenery he described in his immortal work, shepherd boys watch their ovine flocks playing melodies on slender reeds.