It was the prettiest sight in Tlatonac, and Philip was sorry he had not the power to transfer the scene with all its varied hues and picturesque figures to paper. A square, little less large than the great Plaza, surrounded on all sides by gaily tinted houses. Reds, greens, yellows, pinks, the Plaza was girdled by a perfect rainbow, and under the gay awnings before these sat the dealers and their wares. Here were tropical fruits from the tierras calientes, comprising oranges, bananas, pineapples, melons, peaches, and an infinite variety of others, all piled in picturesque confusion on the stalls. As to flowers, the whole place was a mass of blossom, from gorgeous red cactus buds to modest bunches of violets. Owing to the geography of Mexico and Central America, the products of both temperate and tropical zones can be found flourishing at one and the same time. Hence the violets, which Philip had scarcely expected to see. They put him in mind of English woods--of the day when in the Isle of Wight, Jack told him about Dolores. "Yes, the Indians are fond of flowers," said Don Miguel, when Philip expressed his surprise at the profusion of blossoms. "It is a taste they inherit from their ancestors. The Aztecs, you know, were famous for floriculture. We love flowers just as passionately; and, go where you will in Tlatonac, you will find blooming gardens gay with flowers." "It is a graceful taste, and one which the climate enables you to gratify to the full." "Without doubt, Señor. We possess three climates in which flourish different products of Nature. Tlatonac is in the tierra calienti, or hot country. Higher up, on the table-lands it is less tropical, and is called the tierra templada, while the snow-clad mountain peaks, where flourish pine trees, oaks, and hemlocks, is known by the name of the tierra fria. Thus, you see, in our country we possess all the climates of the world." "A rare advantage. Central America is a favoured country." "In all save its rulers," sighed Maraquando, regretfully. "Nor is its population what it should be. I tell you, Señor, this land should be the most powerful in the world. It is the most favoured spot on earth--the garden of Paradise; but what with our incessant civil wars, our incompetent governors, and, of late, the tyranny of the Church, the whole continent is demoralised. Ah, if we but had the man who could weld all our foolish Republics into one great nation! Then, indeed, would we be the glory of the earth." "Don Hypolito Xuarez evidently looks upon himself as that man."