THE DESERT AND THE ROSE 11 



through the Mexican town. To this day it has not 

 materially altered. Each of the mud-dauber's nests 

 called home has a corral attached, fenced about with 

 wattled sticks, as often by the fouquiera which 

 breaks in spring into gorgeous scarlet blossoms, or 

 sometimes by a mud wall. Everywhere live crea- 

 tures are roped according to the Mexican manner, 

 although the roping of the errant hen until her duty 

 for the day is performed is not seen in New as in 

 Old Mexico. Four posts stuck in the ground, a roof 

 of brush on which the corn crop is piled, walls, if 

 any, made of wattled sticks — such are the inex- 

 pensive and by no means to be despised barns still 

 common in this section, made possible by the short, 

 usually dry winters, and desirable in view of the 

 high cost of lumber. Such barns combine the ad- 

 vantages of warmth and ventilation, and if rein- 

 forced with adobe mud suffice even for blooded 

 stock after they are acclimated. 



Here in the Mexican quarter signs of content and 

 cheer greet our eyes. The merciless aridity of the 

 land above the Valley is coaxed by many a flower 

 loving sefiora into producing oases of bloom, fenced 

 against the incursions of goats, cows and burros. 

 Even in this winter season notes of color run 

 through the browns and drabs like the notes of a 

 boy's soprano above the deep voiced choir. And 

 everywhere bobbing along the levels, appearing and 

 disappearing, is the ubiquitous Mexican Hat — in 

 later days doomed alas ! to permanent disap- 

 pearance. 



From the eastern mesa the beauty of the Valley — 



