142 OBSERVATIONS OF A RANCHWOMAN 



hour for lighting up arrives, the effect is 

 bizarre and charming. The band thumps on 

 the arid plaza, rockets whiz heavenward in 

 honour of the patron saint ; the scene, with 

 all its adjuncts, is complete. When the 

 morrow arrives, with perhaps a wind at its 

 heels, reaction sets in. The paper bags tip 

 over, and spill their contents down the necks 

 of unwary passengers in the street below ; 

 and this is a gradual process, continuing for 

 days. Naturally, the bags do not all tip over 

 at once. As for removing them, we are gently 

 reminded, and not for the first time, that we 

 live in the land of poco tiempo. 



Christmas Night brings us another illu- 

 mination, and one that appeals more vividly 

 to the imagination ; for this is the night 

 on which, many, many years ago, the Holy 

 Mother visited her children in the Valley of 

 the Rio Grande. She has never repeated 

 her visit ; but what of that ? There is always 

 a hope that she may do so, and her sacred 

 feet must not be allowed to tread an un- 

 lighted way. So for days before Christmas 

 the devoutly inclined Mexican gathers brush 

 and sticks, and whatever combustible he can 



