572 
Vanilla. 
Am.  Jour.  Pharm. 
Dec,  1893. 
through  tropical  jungles  to  the  city  of  Papantla,  situated  about 
seventy-five  miles  from  the  coast,  inaccessible  by  railroad  or  water, 
and  in  the  heart  of  a  wild  and  as  lawless  a  country  as  you  would 
care  to  visit,  and  you  have  reached  the  heart  of  the  Vanilla  growing 
district ;  only  a  few  hundred  miles  by  actual  measurement,  but 
requiring  more  time,  toil,  privation  and  danger  than  to  make  a  trip 
to  the  Orient.  The  journey  southward  was  one  to  me  of  absorbing 
interest  and  constant  danger.  Its  strange  inhabitants,  its  peculiar 
customs,  its  striking  scenery,  and  its  topographical  and  geographical 
features  were  so  impressed  upon  me  by  my  journey,  that  I  know 
my  audience  will  pardon  a  brief  and  hurried  description  of  some  of 
its  most  salient  features  as  we  pass  on  our  southern  march  to  the 
home  of  the  Vanilla  Bean. 
Actuated  by  the  desire  before  mentioned  I  left  Philadelphia  on 
the  31st  of  January  of  this  year,  on  a  bright,  clear,  cool,  but  pleasant 
Monday.  Next  day  in  the  state  of  Indiana  we  struck  a  blizzard 
with  the  thermometer  down  to  zero  ;  reaching  St.  Louis  we  encoun- 
tered the  worst  snow  storm  of  the  season  with  the  thermometer 
below  zero,  and  the  cars  impossible  to  keep  warm.  Leaving  St. 
Louis  at  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  we  journeyed  southward,  and 
the  next  morning  found  ourselves  with  the  thermometer  550  above 
zero  with  a  bright  sun  and  no  signs  of  the  storm  we  had  passed 
through  but  a  few  hours  before.  On,  on  we  fly  into  Texas  with  the 
thermometer  going  higher  the  farther  we  proceed.  At  Austin  it 
was  700,  and  our  heavy  underclothing  felt  a  little  uncomfortable. 
At  I  aredo  we  came  to  the  border  of  the  United  States  and  Mexico, 
with  a  feeling  that  at  last  we  were  in  Mexico. 
From  Laredo  on  the  Rio  Grande  to  the  city  of  Monterey  it  is  a 
distance  of  170  miles.  After  a  run  of  a  few  hours  we  stopped  in  a 
little  town — Salinas — we  found  ourselves  here  confronting  a  civili- 
zation entirely  different  from  that  which  we  have  left ;  here  were 
one  story  huts,  thatched  roof,  a  door,  but  no  windows,  women  and 
children  at  the  door,  and  the  children  half  naked.  No  floor  but 
that  of  hard  dirt,  no  furniture  but  a  chair  and  stand  with  a  lamp  ;  a 
bundle  of  clothes  in  one  corner,  probably  used  as  a  bed.  Flowers 
were  in  bloom,  a  species  of  cactus  six  feet  high  was  growing  every- 
where, and  the  Spanish  bayonet,  a  queer  shaped  tree  of  the  Yucca 
variety  was  the  one  prominent  tree  in  the  landscape.  My  Vanilla 
expedition  has  now  carried  me  about  2,200  miles  from  Philadelphia 
