A more material diversion, N. told me, was created later by a cock-fight, forbidden by the police, but secretly adored, which took place in a little inclosure. There is no doubt about that animal being in every sense the cock of the Mexican walk. He is the only beast really cherished by them. He even shares the precious hat, and his idiosyncrasies and caprices are tenderly studied. When he fights little knives are tied onto his legs, which is why the sport, though brilliant, is short as far as the cock is concerned. I keep wondering how Madero can "divide up the great estates" and deliver them to that unknown, and here even unlabeled, quantity, "the people." According to the Plan de San Luis Potosí, it would seem as if Mexico were a cake one had simply to cut into and then pass around the slices. There is an underlying excitement in the European contingent of the Diplomatic Corps. The sending of the _Panther_ to Morocco looks like one of those Franco-German incidents that we were familiar with when in Berlin, and may lead to real difficulties. _July 8th._ To-day what started out to be a little golfing lunch, gathered together by N. in the sunny morning hours when it seems it will never rain again, turned into a sort of _disputa_ about many things, within four walls. A tremendous hailstorm came up and darkened and nipped the town, so the "foursome" sat long talking, the water pouring from the roof. Leclerq, Koch, and Nacho Amor are all cultivated, agreeable young men. Amor was educated at Stonyhurst, and has the soft, pleasant voice and delightful English of Mexicans who have passed young years in England. As I write, near and very brilliant stars, under which I was not born, are shining into the _patio_, and in a moment I must go and walk about the inner veranda and look up into that dazzling bit of heaven in the square frame of the house. If it were only not so far and unsharable with my beloved ones! _July 10th._ Last night the German minister gave his first big dinner, at which the Maderos, making their début in official international life, were the _clou_. We arrived as it was striking eight, but the Belgian minister, whom we met going in, said they had already arrived. I found the large room rather full, with a hitherto unsampled Mexican contingent. Von H. was standing by the door, near the Maderos, and we were presented almost immediately. Madero, seen at close range, is small, dark, with nose somewhat flattened, expressive, rather prominent eyes in shallow sockets, and forehead of the impractical shape. But all is redeemed by expression playing like lightning over the sallow, featureless face and his pleasant, ready smile. [Illustration: VON HINTZE, GERMAN MINISTER TO MEXICO (1911 to 1914)]