218 The Naturalist in Nicaragua 
our entertainment into his own hands. He was the nephew 
of the padre, who was absent, and he invited us to his uncle’s 
house, where we were soon installed, and found much more 
comfortable quarters. The padre had a good-looking house- 
keeper, who was also an excellent cook; and she got us 
ready a supper of venison, tortillas, eggs, and chocolate, 
to which we did not fail to do justice. Then the padre’s 
bedstead was placed at my disposal, so that altogether 
we had been most fortunate in meeting with our good friend 
Don Trinidad. 
Most of the people living at Palacaguina were half-breeds 
with a large infusion of negro blood; and the weed-covered 
streets and plaza and dilapidated church compared un- 
favourably with the not far distant Indian town of Totagalpa. 
The Mestizos are a thriftless, careless people, but I care not 
here to dilate on their shortcomings. Let only the hospitality 
and kindness I experienced in Palacaguina live in my mind, 
and let regret draw a veil over their failings, and censure 
forget to chide. 
Next morning Don Trinidad went himself to get us milk 
for our chocolate, three or four others assisted us as kindly 
on our departure as they had welcomed us on our arrival, 
and we rode away with more pleasant recollections of the 
weedy-looking town than if we had been entertained by 
grandees; for these people were poor, and had assisted us 
out of pure good-nature. The country at first was level, 
and the roads smooth and dry. The morning was delightfully 
cool; and as we trotted along our spirits were high and gay, 
and "snatches of song sprang unbidden to our lips. How 
delightful these rides in the early morning were! how all 
nature seemed to be in accord with our feelings! Every 
bush and tree was noted, every bird-call heard. We would 
shout to one another, ‘‘ Do you see this or that?” or set 
Rito off into convulsions with some thin joke. Every sense 
was gratified; it was like the youth of life. But as the 
day wore on, the sun would shine hotter and hotter, what 
had been a pleasure became a toil, and we would push on 
determinedly but silently. The day would age, and our 
shadows come again and begin to lengthen; the heat of the 
day was past, but our spirits would not mount to their 
morning's height. The beautiful flowers, the curious thorny 
