The food question is difficult here, anyway, and personally I am unable to wrestle with it. The far-famed tropical fruits of this part of the world are most disappointing, with the exception of the mango, with its clear, clean, slightly turpentiny taste. There are many varieties of bananas, but scarcely a decent one to be had, such as any Italian push-cart is stocked with in New York. The _chirimoya_ has a custard-like taste--the _chico zapote_, looking like a potato, has also, to our palate, a very unpleasant, mushy consistency, and everything is possessed of abnormally large seeds at the center. The beautiful-looking, but tough, peaches that adorn our tables come from California; also the large, rather withered grapes. FOOTNOTES: [2] _Tertulia_--evening party. [3] A little drink. III Federal and Rebel excesses in the north--Some aspects of social life--Mexico’s inner circle--Huerta’s growing difficulties--Rabago--The “Feast of the Dead.”--Indian booths at the Alameda--The Latin-American’s future. _October 29th._ The Minister for Foreign Affairs is now in the drawing-room, from which I have fled, having asked to confer with N. He has been frightened at the intervention outlook and probably has come to try to find out what Washington really has in store for Mexico. He said the other day that the suspense was paralyzing to the nation. The British vice-consul at Palacio Gomez, Mr. Cunard Cummings, came for lunch. He has had a thorough experience with both rebels and Federals at Torreon, and has terrible stories to tell of both sides. You don’t change Mexican methods by draping them in different banners. In fact, it isn’t the banner, here, but the kind of hand carrying it, that makes the difference. He told us how one night the rebels shot up the hospital in his town, crowded with wounded whom he and the doctors had left fairly comfortable. The next morning, when he went back, his attention was first caught by something dark and sticky dripping from the balcony, as he went into the _patio_. Up-stairs a dreadful sight was presented by the overturned cots, the broken medicine-bottles, and last, but not least, the _human_ horrors. Another tale is that of an ex-Deputy, de la Cadena, who walked up the aisle of a church with clanking sword and spurs, seized the priest officiating at Mass, and threw him and the sacred vessels out into the street, to the consternation and terror of the humble worshipers. Two federal military trains have been blown up during the last week. Ninety persons were killed at one station and, the day before, one hundred and two killed in the same way at Lulu station. It is certainly a dance of death. _October 30th._