_Las ofrendas_; (the offerings) this is the custom which gives a special character to the Day of the Dead in my village. Those candles of whitest wax, those human-figure shaped loaves of bread, those crowns, those exquisite sweets which for six days have been offered for sale in the booths in the Plaza are to be deposited upon the graves in the cemetery--in such wise, that the rude bench covered with a cloth of the finest cotton, assumes the appearance of a carefully prepared table, fitted with the richest and most delicate dishes. There are placed earthen jars of syrup, dishes of wild honey in the comb, cakes made of young and tender corn--sweetened and spiced with cinnamon, preserves, vessels of holy water, and the best of whatever else the mother of the family can provide. It is the banquet which the living give to the dead.... From three in the afternoon, at which time the bell of the parish-church begins to strike the doubles, sadly and slowly, as the doubles are always struck in the villages, families sally from their houses and direct their way to the cemetery or to the church porch, where there are also some graves. There they traverse the pathways between these and by examining the crosses (not the names nor epitaphs, for there are none) they recognize the place where relatives or friends rest.... They then place the objects which they bear as the _ofrenda_, light the candles, sprinkle the grave with some drops of holy water, and soon after there is heard in that enclosure of the dead, the murmur of the prayers they raise to Heaven.... Thus the afternoon passes: neither curiosity, nor the desire to see, nor other profane pastime, distract the attention of these simple villagers, who, absorbed in the sanctuary of their most intimate recollections, pray and sigh with tender and deep sadness. When the evening shadows drive them thence, they bear the _ofrendas_ to the interior of the houses. The lights are renewed, a sort of an altar is improvised upon which are placed the objects which before were on the graves, and other prayers and other mournings begin. It is not rare to see, high in some tree in the grove, or in some solitary and retired spot, a taper which gleams, in spite of the night breeze: it is the offering for the _ánima sola_ (the lonely soul)--that is to say, of one who has in the village neither a relative nor a friend who remembers it and decorates its grave. A bit of bread and a little taper, and a prayer repeated for it--this is what each family dedicates to the soul of that unknown one. Thus do the poor people of my village honor the memory of the dead. THE STUDENT AT HOME.