There is a noticeable absence of life and stir, but this is more
in appearance than reality. It takes a stranger some time to
learn that the houses face in, and not out. The court, or placUa,
is the center of household life, and of that you can catch only a
glimpse from the walk. In Chihuahua the placUcts are full of
flowering plants, in the universal earthen jars, and moreover are
the homes of countless mocking-birds in gayly-painted wicker
cages. Going along in the afternoon on the shady side of the
street, one hears flowing out of the street door, half ajar, a rip-
pling flood of melody from the cages among the figs and olean-
ders. It makes you think of Keats's nightingale, "singing of
summer in full-throated ease."

When you go to the post office in Chihuahua, you go into a
pkusUa full of birds and flowers, and come around into a small
room where there are two or three clerks. It seems like a pri-
vate office. The clerk looks over a pile of undelivered letters,
and gives you your own. It is very home-like, but unbusiness-like,
and will all be changed soon.
