The Floating Gardens of Mexico 
between the canal and the floating gardens. 
A vivid hedge of double scarlet geranium, 
flanked by the blue green of the cactus, gives 
a note of color to the scene, as he embarks 
in the narrow punt which awaits him and 
seats himself on a tiny wooden bench. The 
gardener in charge of the boat punts slowly 
down a narrow dyke which is hardly wider 
than a ditch, and square gardens succeed 
each other, planted chiefly with vegetables. 
Sometimes the boat glides up a narrow water¬ 
way almost choked with water-lilies; some¬ 
times it comes suddenly on a patch of maize, 
and the violet mountains—for once almost 
lost sight of—reappear framed with the tall 
stalks of the Indian corn. 
This floating garden has the appearance of 
being solid ground and very likely, in process 
of time, the space between the soil and the 
bottom of the water has been choked up and 
filled with mud. But the character remains 
and the effect is unique. 
What strikes a stranger most in Mexico is 
the extraordinary opportunities given by the 
climate to the cultivator and the sparing use 
made of them. Much is said of the fine fruit 
in this country, but the fact is, that the fruit 
is extremely poor. And this in a country 
where there are two crops of corn and maize 
every year, and where, with a little ordinary 
perseverance and care, so much might be 
done. It is true that strawberries can be 
obtained all the year round, but this is thanks 
to the climate and not to the cultivator. They 
are tasteless and watery, resembling mountain 
strawberries without their peculiar delicacy 
of flavor. 
Much of the land is given up to the 
cultivation of the maguey or American aloe, 
from which the pulque is made; an intoxica¬ 
ting liquor which is the curse of the modern 
Mexican, as it was of his ancestors. A great 
deal of the land is given up to corn and maize 
also, and not a little of it is either sandy 
desert or mountain peak. But still there is a 
vast field for the cultivation of fruit, and as 
the Mexicans do not make use of the natural 
advantages of their magnificent country and 
climate, it seems a pity that some enterpri¬ 
sing American should not do it for them. 
The game is, apparently, quite worth the 
candle. 
The Cascade—Caserta 
198 
