Mexico -- History -- 1910-1946; Mexico City (Mexico) -- Social life and customs
Madero was very silent, but his hands twitched nervously as he gazed
out over that human mass he had come to save. I felt how diverse our
thoughts as we stood looking down on the faces, on that forest of
peaked hats, on police riding down the little avenues which traced
themselves between the crowd. Everything was orderly. I think Gustave
Le Bon could have added another chapter to _La Psychologie des Foules_.
[12] We must get even the water from the Spanish woman.
X
The uncertainty of Spanish adverbs--Planchette and the destiny
of the state--Madame Bonilla's watery garden-party--De la
Barra's "moderation committee"--Madero's "reform platform"
_September 21st._
To-day we go for a farewell lunch at the Austrian chargé's, who is
leaving almost immediately. His cousin, the new Austrian minister,
Riedl von Riedenau, and his American wife, have arrived and are to have
his house.
I have been out very little lately--only to a dinner at Hohler's and
a luncheon at the Embassy. This is not a climate where foreigners can
put screws on themselves with impunity. The mornings are indescribably
clear-washed, brilliant, radiant, but the trouble about all this beauty
is that it is too high. Very few resist it _à la longue_.
I have been reading C. F. Lummis's _Spanish Pioneers_--a noble picture
of their romantic achievements. I am sending it. Please keep it with my
other Mexicana. I am also sending _Howard's End_, this last a history
of a life, to fill a dark afternoon.
I hear Elim, who is picking up a lot of Spanish, remonstrating with
Elena, saying, "_No mañana, orita!_"[13] His infant soul has perceived
the full significance of the fatal word _mañana_. _Orita_, I have
discovered, is also apt to be followed by a maddening wait; and, in
general, Spanish adverbs of time awaken uneasiness.
_September 23d._
Last night there was a big dinner at Von H.'s, at which I did the
_maîtresse de maison_. I wore the pastel-blue satin with the silver
embroidery and the dull-pink bows. I thought I had ruined it forever in
Vienna, at the French Embassy, when the French ambassador had his ball
of twenty couples only, for the Princesse de Parme, and I gaily swept
the floor with it during some hours. Gabrielle, however, who realizes
that the source of gowns is far, has resurrected it.
There was much talk of the great reliance Madero places on the spirits.
It is said that Madame M. goes into spiritualistic trances, and when in
that condition answers doubtful questions, and that the planchette is
fated to play a rôle in the destiny of the state.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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