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that the great quantities of fruits and vegetables lay scorched and wilted under the quaint palm umbrellas that were no more than tissue paper between them and the burning sun, and the venders had no desire to talk, and this languor had on us, likewise, a depressing influence.

With the usual number of muchachitos following with evident satisfaction all our movements, we strolled along the principal streets, across picturesque bridges, sketched and made notes by the Molino de Guadalupe, whence we caught a lovely view of a shrine of Moorish design, across