Indians in various tribal costumes, mostly picturesque and all dirty, patter through the square with loads of provisions or babies. As no stoves or fireplaces exist, the charcoal man's loud "Carbosiú!" (_Carbón, señor!_) resounds through the streets. So does the plaintive cry of the water-carrier, bending under his great earthen jar, for the houses are all supplied from a few public fountains, the termini of aqueducts. "Orchata, lemon, pineapple, tamarind!" calls out a shrill voice; "What will you take, my darling? This way for refreshment:" and we see a good-looking girl in a short skirt expanded wide with hoops, her arms bare and her bodice cut low enough for a ball, selling "temperance" drinks. Here is a dingy cell stuffed with chin-basins, razors, dental implements, boxes of pomade, a guitar, a fighting-cock tethered in a corner, and sundry pictures of saints, parrots and battles; and there a cigar shop with a slender, black-eyed girl behind the counter, bold enough and handsome enough, even without the red rose in her hair, to tempt St. Anthony. Observe the _evangelista_, or public letter-writer, with two quills and an inkstand ready on his little desk under a canopy of straw matting; and observe, too, that lépero with his back against a donkey's pannier, robbing the pannier while he pretends to be buying a knife.[1.8] Priests in long shovel hats; lousy soldiers in ragged, ill-fitting uniforms; gaudy officers chatting and smoking; jugglers with snakes and balls; cynical dandies retailing love affairs; half-naked léperos in the corners sleeping off their pulque; lottery venders with long strings of tickets; sellers of flowers, toys, candy, glass, wax-work, mock jewellery, cheap cutlery, and a thousand other things; closed carriages taking ladies to church; more beggars and still more--these and many other sights keep us too busy for reflection; but we cannot help noticing that seven out of ten persons are social drones or parasites, and that vice of one sort or another dims the face and weakens the step of almost every one. Suddenly a light bell tinkles, and the crowd is instantly grave and still. "God is coming," they whisper, or in other words the viatic is going to a sick man. A coach drawn by two mules and followed by a dozen slovenly friars holding lighted candles and chanting, comes slowly down a street. All uncover and kneel, and we must do likewise or very likely get a pummelling.[1.8]