anything before the fiesta ended.  The only member of the government who was not extremely drunk that afternoon was the sindico.  Calling him to me, I addressed him, scorning both priest and presidente.  I refused to drink with them, saying that they were already too drunk to know their duties, and that both should be ashamed of their condition.  At this time the cura asked me if I were a clergyman.  On my replying no, he remarked that I looked like one.  I told him yes, that I was frequently mistaken for one; that a priest in the Mixteca had even thought that I was a bishop.  He then drunkenly inquired whether I were married, and on my replying no, made the astonishing observation that then, it was certain that I could not be a priest,—­that every priest had one wife, bishops two, and archbishops three.  This drunken priest had just been making certain observations to the presidente calculated to interfere with my work, and I felt that I now had my opportunity.  So, turning upon him, I gravely reproved him for his remark.  I told him that, in his language and his drunkenness, he was setting a bad example to his parish; that he should go at once to the curato, and not venture forth during the time that we remained in the town.  Half-sobered by my order, he arose without a word, went to his house, and did not again appear for four days.  Having gotten him out of the way, I turned to the drunken officials and told them that, early the next morning, I should begin my work, and that they must make the needful preparations; that I wished to measure, photograph, and make busts of the population.  I told them that at present they were too drunk to aid me, but that the following morning things must be different; that enough at least to attend to my orders must be sober.  After supper, attracted by the noise and hubbub, we set out to see the plaza.  Torches were flaring in every direction, and considerable business was being done at all the booths.  Crowds of drunken people were squatting on the ground in all directions; at the town-house the band of music was playing the jarabe, and 40 or 50 persons were dancing this lively dance.  Old and young, men and women, boys and girls, all were taking part; no one paid attention to any other person, but each seemed to be trying to prove himself the most agile of the party.  All were drunk, some astonishingly so.  Occasionally a dancer would bump against such an one, who would fall head over heels.  Immediately picking himself up, he would go at it again, with even greater vigor; sometimes one fell, of himself, in a helpless heap, and lay where he fell, until kicked out of the way or until the music stopped.  All around was pandemonium; yelling, singing, cursing, fighting were in progress; the jail was crowded, but every now and then a new case was dragged up; for an instant the door was opened, and against the crowd, pushing from within, the new prisoner would be crowded