TOWN OF BUENOS AIRES. 



33 



fied with this reason, and I could not persuade 

 them that some one should arrange a constant sup- 

 ply and succession of fruits, and not leave it en- 

 tirely to the Gaucho. But the same want of ar- 

 rangement exists in all instances. If one has been 

 taken out to dinner in a carriage, and in the evening 

 ventures to inquire why it has not arrived, the 

 answer is that it is raining, and that those who let 

 carriages will not allow them to go out if it rains. 



During the short time I was at Buenos Aires, I 

 lived in a house out of the town, which was oppo- 

 site the English burying-ground, and very near the 

 place where the cattle were killed. This latter spot 

 was about four or five acres, and was altogether 

 devoid of pasture; at one end of it there was a 

 large corral enclosed by rough stakes, and divided 

 into a number of pens, each of which had a sepa- 

 rate gate. These cells were always full of cattle 

 doomed for slaughter. I several times had occa- 

 sion to ride over this field, and it was curious to see 

 its cifferent appearances. In passing it in the day 

 or evening, no human being was to be seen : the 

 cattle up to their knees in mud, and with nothing 

 to eat, were standing in the sun, occasionally low- 



D 



