Just home from the Cámara, where Madero took his oath of office. Immense crowds were thickly formed about the building, and among the _vivas_ for Madero were growls, here and there, of "_Abajo los gringos_."[21] A few mounted _rurales_ only were out, the "Messiah of the peons" having put the crowd on its honor. I went with Mrs. Wilson in the Embassy motor, which came back for us after having deposited the ambassador and his staff at the Palace in evening clothes, where the gentlemen of the _Corps Diplomatique_ were assembled to take leave of President de la Barra before coming on for the inaugural ceremonies at the Chamber. We arrived on the scene to find the little plaza in front of the Chamber solidly packed, and the steps leading to the doors presenting a conglomeration of peaked hats and zarapes, interposed with black coats and "derbys." We finally got out of the motor at a side door, to the sound of more "_abajos_," and once within, it really seemed very comfortable to be sheltered from the noise and the various potentialities of the crowd. A big, solemn-faced Indian growled, "_abajo_," as I tripped from the motor, but when I answered him, "_Viva Mexico_," his face lighted up in a most friendly way. They need so little to change their moods, and that is one of the dangers here. The wife of the Japanese minister said she had to fight her way in. Her sleeve was torn and her hair dishevelled, and she looked as if she had given battle. A door, wide open, led from the room where the _Corps Diplomatique_ laid off their wraps, into a very large one, the office of the Protocol, where there were great sealed bundles of ballots bearing the postmarks of the towns whence they had been shipped--unopened, uncounted, intact. It appears the "counters" got discouraged early in the game; there were so many ballots having no connection with 1911, such as that of Hidalgo (executed in 1811), Benito Juarez (dead in his bed in 1872), and unknown names of various _jefes políticos_ in various remote places, with an occasional bit of unexpected color appearing in the way of remembrances of favorite bull-fighters. Well, Madero, the man of promises, is President of Mexico, and what difficulties lie before him! After taking his oath, in a firm voice, he ended the speech which followed, rather suddenly, by saying if he did not keep his promises they could send him away. The extreme pallor of his face was accented by his pointed, black beard, already the delight of the caricaturists, but his mien was grave and his gestures were unusually few. Across his breast was the red, white, and green sash, the visible sign of the dream come true.