Page:Travels in Mexico and life among the Mexicans.djvu/339

 the place whence his landlady draws the crude material for the nourishment of his inner man,—to a little iron-roofed structure in the Plaza. There are many plazas in Mexico, but only one Plaza Mayor, overlooked by the great cathedral, and containing the Zocalo, or promenade of the upper classes. On the western side of the square is the flower market, surrounded by an atmosphere of delightful fragrance.

The love of flowers is a redeeming trait in the character of the Aztec of to-day. It has survived the oppressions of three hundred years, and the exactions of two centuries of Spanish taskmasters. The priests, in their anxiety for converts, allowed the Indians to retain many of their old forms of worship, the least objectionable one of which was the expression of their adoration through the medium of flowers. Barbaric dances, glitter, and display are necessarily a part of their worship, not all of which were derived from their ancient religion. It is said that, long after the overthrow of their gods, the Indians would visit by stealth their prostrate war-god, the terrible Huitzilopochtli, and surround him with garlands of flowers. Enter any church, cathedral, or chapel, and you will find flowers in profusion placed before the images of the Virgin. Not only this, but offerings of the first-fruits of their fields; small clumps of golden wheat and barley, maize and clover. I might add, quoting Prescott, that among the Aztecs "the public taxes were often paid in agricultural produce,"—which fact establishes a precedent for the custom prevailing in our own country, of paying one's subscription to a country paper in vegetables instead of cash.

But to return to the flower market. Inside it is full of men and women arranging flowers, great heaps of which cover the floor. Their innate taste for such work is exhibited in their delicacy of arrangement and delightful combinations of color, though the profusion of flowers induces them sometimes to consider quantity rather than quality. The cheapness of these beauties is wonderful: button-hole bouquets of violets or pansies, three cents, or even less; one boy had bunches which he was offering for two cents,—"Tlaco, señor, tlaco!" From