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316 the depth in lake or in channel nowhere being over five feet.

The markets of Mexico are something wonderful, especially in the way of flowers. Huge bouquets of the choicest roses, pinks, geraniums, heliotrope, mignonette—the flowers of every zone, in fact—artistically arranged, sell for a trifle. Everybody buys and wears flowers. The pure smokeless air and the even temperature bring these exquisite flowers to full perfection in size, tint and color. There are fruits of all lands—apples, pears, cherries, plums, of the North, with figs, oranges, pomegranates, pineapples, bananas, of the South, with all the berries familiar to us, and some luscious productions of nature which can be known only by a visit to this highly-favored land. Everything is cheap and abundant. 'A double price is generally asked by the huckster, who expects to be beaten down and yields with Mexican politeness to the buyer's urgency.

The city is still partially supplied with water from the famous old spring at Chapultepec for which so many battles have been fought. Aztec supremacy began with its capture and ended after a desperate resistance when Cortez cut the aqueduct in 1520. Its health-giving streams are now flowing again. The aquadors, or water-carriers, throng to fill their earthen pots just as they did in the days of Cortez, and the bent figures with their loads strapped on their backs look as though they had just stepped out of the pictures on some old Egyptian monument.

There are no more beautiful objects in the city than the public fountains. One is built of hewn stone richly decorated with carvings and statuary and polished until it reflects the sunlight like some bright metal. The