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mounting to place and power; and so the tree may be allowed to stand, like our battle monuments. A fire almost consumed it last year, and it is preserved with as great difficulty as the big tree on Boston Common.

Tacuba is passed—not pretty in its high, inclosing walls, but lovely in its opening glimpses of gardens and groves. The Street of San Cosme is entered, and its solemn-looking aqueduct passed. This aqueduct, built after the "high Roman fashion," on stately arches, rises gray and black and moist. Its sides drip with coolness, and are flecked with mosses, grasses, and tiny shrubs. It seems a projection of Antechristian times into the bustling present. Along these arches fought the men of Scott against the men of Santa Anna, inch by inch, to the plaza and the palace. Along