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Rh the shrill whistle of the policeman. The force is well appointed, and with almost a military organisation, copied after the French system. The salary is $1 a day for both guardas, or day-watchmen, and, serenos, or night-watchmen. The belated traveller is challenged by the officer as by a sentry with the cry of Quien va? ("Who goes there?") and must promptly respond Amigo! ("A friend!"). If further questioned, he must answer to the Donde vive? or "Where do you live?" with the name of his hotel or place of lodging. Then he is allowed to pass; but if the reply should be unsatisfactory, he is immediately arrested.

Café life, if it is not quite such an institution as in some European countries, is sufficiently a phase of Mexican existence to require some description. "Sylvani's" resembles the Café de la Paix in Paris. The Chapultepec Café, near the entrance to the park of that name, is the smartest in Mexico city, and is the resort of the cream of Mexican society on Sundays and high days. The scheme of the Mexican café, or restaurant of the better class, is uncompromisingly French. String bands discourse at most of these places of entertainment.

The cheaper cafés and restaurants, the resorts of the lower orders, provide cheap but tasty fare, practically every dish of which is so smothered in chilli sauce as to be almost uneatable to any but a native. The surroundings are rather crude and the service perfunctory, but it is here that one sees a part of the real Mexico. The dish may be enchiladas, that is, tortillas containing cheese and onion or meat, served with radish or salad, and garnished with the eternal chilli sauce, the peppers of the chilli when green often actually being served stuffed with cream cheese! Or perhaps one may be treated to fried eggs and frijoles—also served with chilli accompaniments or "trimmins," needless to say.

The manner in which animals are treated in Mexico is certain to rouse and disgust the British visitor. It is no