It cannot be said that Argentina is a poor man's paradise, in the sense that his interests and general well-being are carefully regarded. Indeed the newspapers are full of complaints of the "oligarchies of office" and the scuffle for power among lucky cliques, who appropriate all the good things and leave the uninitiated multitudes to take care of themselves. An inquiry as to why Mendoza had no tramways elicited the reply, "Oh, the people in power here have carriages. As long as they can get about comfortably themselves, they do not care about the others." The authorities squeeze the poor as much as they can, but the latter yield most reluctantly to the process. A standing subject of wrangle is licences, which are like Sydney Smith's taxes; everything is licensed; the most petty trader or porter has to pay handsomely for the right to live, and this licence question is a perpetual source of friction. Besides the cost to the poor, it is excellent matter for the ingenuities of police persecution. Licence regulations are bulky and complicated, and licence-holders are, of course, liable to the attention of the law of street-traffic and the like; consequently the police have powerful weapons to hold _in terrorem_ over the refractory, for it is easy to awaken a sleeping statute and effect an arrest under it. As might have been expected, there is considerable discontent among the working classes, and strikes are frequent. Trades Unions exist, but it does not appear that they are very well organised, and the South American mind is so permeated with politics that industrial strikes tend to become wholly political. About a year ago the whole of Rosario went on strike against the municipal dues, and the movement was by no means unsuccessful. A few months later there were repeated attempts at a universal strike in Buenos Aires, and a considerable amount of bloodshed resulted from the sharp repressive measures which were taken against it. If the poor complain, they have considerable justification.