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70 Whole families seemed to have their abiding places in the market. Babies! babies! everywhere; under the tables, on mats, hanging on their mothers' backs, cuddled up in heaps among the beets, turnips, and lettuces, peeping over pumpkins larger than they; rollicking, crying, crowing, and laughing, their dancing black eyes the only clean, clear spots about them—with and without clothes—until my head and the air were vocalizing the old-time ditty of "One little, two little, three little Injuns." But instead of stopping at "ten," they bade fair to run up into the thousands.

Parrots were there by the dozen. On seeing me, some began screaming and calling in idiomatic Spanish: "Look at the señora estrangera! look! look! Señorita, tell me your name!" The rest joined in chorus, and soon an interested crowd surrounded me. They kept close at my heels, inspecting every article I bought, even commenting on my dress, the women lightly stroking it and asking me a thousand questions as to where I came from, how I liked their country, and if I was not afraid of the Mexicans, and invariably closing by saying, "She is far from her home. It is sad for her here."

Here and there the amusing spectacle presented itself of men intently engaged in the occupation among us assigned to women, that of knitting and crocheting baby hoods and stockings of bright wool, and of the funniest shapes I ever beheld! Vegetables, fruits, and nuts of all kinds were counted out carefully in little heaps, and could only be bought in that way, by retail, wholesale rates being universally rejected. I could buy as many of these piles as I wanted, but each one was counted separately, and paid for in the same way. I offered to buy out the entire outfit of a woman