Our Visit in Tehuantepec

Dear Cousins:

Mexico, who is our near neighbor - she lives just across the Rio Grande River from us, has always before this time sent a good representation to Madame World's fairs.

But this year she could not arrange to leave home, and some of her children were much disappointed, just as one would naturally expect, when they had their minds all made up to come. We can quite understand it.

So one little village said, "Oh, Mother Mexico, please let us go to our Cousin America's party?"

Mothers always enjoy making their children happy, we are glad to have observed, so Senora Mexico told the little village if it would be good and keep its face and hands clean, and not ask for more than one helping of cake and ice-cream that it might go to the party. So it came, and one evening we went up to call. It lives on a very noisy street called "The Zone," but after we were inside the gates we did not even hear the noise.

It is quite the quaintest little village we have ever been in. They have a dear little theatre, not a movie, but a real play theatre, which pleased us because we like regular plays much better than pictures. It seems more like really doing things, and we miss the voices so much in a movie.

They gave a play for us, in their own language, and it was very funny. We did not, of course, understand the words, but they laughed so much at it that we knew.

After the play we went to supper, which was cooked on a 'dobe stove, and served in a real kitchen in a real hacienda.

There is a real river of real water running through the village, and on it is a tiny barge full of green vegetables, showing how the gardener takes his produce to market. There were two big catfish in the river. We stood on the puente, which is Mexican for "bridge," and watched the good ship Anita as it steamed into the harbor. We feared the catfish would capsize it.

Some of the people of the village have brought along their work, and we were much interested in the basket-making, and the weaving of the brilliant colored serapes, which the people wear instead of coats.

A Mexican grandmother gave us each a dear little vase of red pottery, and a feather picture of a blue jay. We hoped the picture was not made of a real blue jay's feathers, because we are fond of him.

We found the village interesting. They bade us adios, and asked us to come again. Thank you, Mexico, we shall.

Your loving cousins,

Jane and Ellen.