A BARBER IN OFFI C E. 



35 



plice and saying mass. The church stood at the head 

 of the square, and, like the houses, was built of poles 

 and thatched with leaves. In front, at a distance of 

 ten or fifteen feet, was a large wooden cross. The 

 floor was of bare earth, but swept clean and strewed 

 with pine-leaves ; the sides were trimmed with branch- 

 es and festoons of flowers, and the altar was ornament- 

 ed with figures of the Virgin and saints, and wreaths 

 of flowers. It was a long time since the people had 

 had the privilege of hearing mass, and the whole pop- 

 ulation, Spaniards, Mestitzoes, and Indians, answered 

 the unexpected but welcome call of the matin bell. 

 The floor was covered with kneeling women having 

 white shawls over their heads, and behind, leaning 

 against the rude pillars, were the men ; and their ear- 

 nestness and humility, the earthen floor and the thatch- 

 ed roof, were more imposing than the pomp of worship 

 in the rich cathedrals of Europe or under the dome of 

 St. Peter's. 



After breakfast we inquired for a barber, and were 

 referred to the collector of the port, who, we were 

 told, was the best hair-cutter in the place. His house 

 was no bigger than his neighbours', but inside hung a 

 military saddle, with holsters and pistols, and a huge 

 sword, the accoutrements of the collector when he sal- 

 lied out at the head of his deputy to strike terror into 

 the heart of a smuggler. Unfortunately, the honest 

 Democrat was not at home ; but the deputy offered his 

 own services. Mr. C. and I submitted ; but the padre, 

 who wanted his crown shaved, according to the rules of 

 his order, determined to wait the return of the collector. 



I next called upon the commandant with my pass- 

 port. His house was on the opposite side of the square. 

 A soldier about fourteen years old, with a bell-crown- 



