The standing army in Mexico is said to number forty thousand men, but is believed to be more. Every little village of a few hundred people has its army, and every day that army is being increased; the officers range from those who have gained experience and fame on the battlefield to the young ones reared and trained in military colleges; they are mostly all of what is considered the highest class of people in Mexico. The rank and file are mostly half-breeds or Indians, who are not by any means volunteers. They are nearly all convicts. When a man is convicted of some misdemeanor he is enlisted in the regular army, separated from his home, and to serve the rest of his natural life. This life is not a bed of roses--there is no bed at all, and out of a medio (6 1/4 cents) a day, he has to furnish his food and comforts. The dress uniform is made of coarse woolen goods, with yellow stripes on the sleeves; and the undress uniform, which is worn constantly except on review days, is but white muslin, pants, waist and cap. Some of the Indians are stolen and put in the army, and they immediately resign themselves to their fate, for there is no more escape for them than there is from death. The wives of these poor fellows are very faithful, and very often follow the regiment from one place to another; they live on what nature grows for them and what they can beg or steal; the men are called in Spanish "soldados," and the women, because they cling to their husbands, "soldadas." It looks very pitiful to see a poor Indian woman with a babe tied to her back and one clinging to her skirts, dusty, hungry and footsore, traveling for miles through the hot sun with the regiments. These soldados are wonderfully hardy; they can travel for a week through the hot sun, with nothing to drink and but a spoonful of boiled beans and one tortillia--a small flat cake--for two days' rations, sleep on the ground at night, and be us fresh for service as a well-kept mule. Fight! well those who imagine it such an easy thing to whip them should stand off and witness some of their feats first; they love their country, and consider life well lost in defense of it; they are ignorant, it is true, but seem the more courageous for it. When told to fight, they go at it with as much vigor as a bull dog after a cat; they don't know why they are fighting, or for what, but it is their rule and custom to obey, not to reason why. If you would stop one soldier in the midst of his fighting and ask: "Why are you fighting?" he would answer in the characteristic words of his people, "Quien sabe?"