The laundry women, who, by the way, wash clothes whiter and iron them
smoother even than the Chinese, carry the clothes home unwrapped. That
is, they carry their hands high above their head, from which stream
white skirts, laces, etc., furnishing a most novel and interesting
sight.
"The saddest thing I ever saw," said Mr. Theo. Gestefeld, "among all
the sad things in Mexico, was an incident that happened when I first
arrived here. Noticing a policeman talking to a boy around whom a crowd
of dusky citizens had gathered, I, true to journalistic instinct,
went up to investigate. The boy, I found, belonged to one of the many
families who do odd jobs in day time for a little food, and sleep at
night in some dark corner. Strung to the boy's back was a dying baby.
Its little eyes were half closed in death. The crowd watched, in
breathless fascination, its last slow gasps. The boy had no home to go
to, he knew not where to find his parents at that hour of the day, and
there he stood, while the babe died in its cradle, his _serape._ In
my newspaper career I have witnessed many sad scenes, but I never saw
anything so heartrending as the death of that little innocent."
Tortillas is not only one of the great Mexican dishes but one of the
women's chief industries. In almost any street there can be seen women
on their knees mashing corn between smooth stones, making it into a
batter, and finally shaping it into round, flat cakes. They spit on
their hands to keep the dough from sticking, and bake in a pan of hot
grease, kept boiling by a few lumps of charcoal. Rich and poor buy and
eat them, apparently unmindful of the way they are made. But it is a
bread that Americans must be educated to. Many surprise the Mexicans by
refusing even a taste after they see the bakers.
There are some really beautiful girls among this low class of people.
Hair three quarters the length of the women, and of wonderful
thickness, is common. It is often worn loose, but more frequently in
two long plaits. Wigmakers find no employment here. The men wear long,
heavy bangs.
There is but one thing that poor and rich indulge in with equal delight
and pleasure--that is cigarette smoking. Those tottering with age down
to the creeping babe are continually smoking. No spot in Mexico is
sacred from them; in churches, on the railway cars, on the streets,
in the theaters--everywhere are to be seen men and women--of the
_elite_--smoking.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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