are two jails for men and women. The houses of the village are small,
rectangular structures of a red-brown-ochre adobe brick; the roofs slope
from in front backward, and are covered with red tiles they project in
front so as to cover a little space before the house.

By evening most of the indians in the town were drunk. At sunset a
miserable procession started from the church, passed through the
village, and then returned to the church; composed mostly of women, it
was preceded by a band of music and the men who carried the _santito_.
Later, we heard most disconsolate strains, and, on examination, found
four musicians playing in front of the old church; three of them had
curious, extremely long, old-fashioned horns of brass, while the fourth
had a drum or _tambour_. The _tambour_ was continuously played, while
the other instruments were alternated in the most curious fashion. The
music was strange and weird, unlike any that we had ever heard before.
However, we became thoroughly familiar with it before we had traversed
the whole Mixe country, as we heard it twice daily, at sunrise and after
sunset. It was the music of the Candelaria, played during the nine days
preceding February 2d. As we sat listening to the music the _presidente_
of the town appeared. His Spanish, at no time adequate, was now at its
worst, as he was sadly intoxicated. We tried to carry on a conversation
with him, but soon seeing that naught but disaster could be expected, if
we continued, we discreetly withdrew to our room.

[Illustration: A STREET IN SAN LORENZO]

[Illustration: AYUTLA]

There we found the _fiscal_, and I have rarely seen so drunk an
official. When drunk, he is violent and abusive, and it was plain that