50 
DOTTINGS ON THE ROADSIDE. [Chap. IV.—B. S. 
tized. Men fond of theological discussion would have 
thought this a fair opportunity to wrangle with this 
drawer of water about the right of private judgment, 
and other cardinal points of our national faith ; hut I 
was so thirsty that I thought much more of the de¬ 
licious coolness of the water than the fact that I was 
obtaining it in a false character. 
The place where this well was is called Hacienda 
de la Seivita, and belongs to one Louis Balteson, 
who seems to make a good deal of money by selling 
water to passing travellers, as during the dry sea¬ 
son none is to be found for many miles around. 
We had some milk, eggs, cheese, and corn-cakes for 
breakfast, and then started without delay. The road 
continued to be very dusty, the clumsy bullock-carts 
of the country raising perfect clouds. Towards five 
o’clock we reached a place called Yalle de Zapata, 
a mere collection of huts, where a little Indian corn and 
cotton was grown, the latter being the mossy-seeded 
variety. The people were much disappointed that 
the cotton prices had gone down so much, and thought 
it a hard case that the United States should have dis¬ 
continued their fratricidal war just at a time when 
Nicaragua was getting ready to send a few hundred 
bales of cotton to the Liverpool market. Cotton cul¬ 
tivation in this country has not been successful, in 
most seasons a worm entering the pods just when they 
begin to ripen, and thus destroying the crops. If it 
were not for this, Nicaraguans delude themselves by 
thinking that the produce they might be able to 
send to Europe would materially affect the prices. 
