procured, to the great amusement of the Indian women, who begged to know if
my gown was the _last fashion_, and said it was "_muy guapa,_" very pretty.
Here we found good hot coffee, and it being Christmas-day, every one was
cleaned and dressed for mass.

At Rio Frio, which is about thirteen leagues from Mexico, and where there
is a pretty good posada in a valley surrounded by woods, we stopped to
dine. The inn was kept by a Bordelaise and her husband, who wish themselves
in Bordeaux twenty times a day. In front of the house some Indians were
playing at a curious and very ancient game--a sort of swing, resembling
"_El Juego de los Voladores,_" "The game of the flyers," much in vogue
amongst the ancient Mexicans. Our French hostess gave us a good dinner,
especially excellent potatoes, and jelly of various sorts, regaling us with
plenty of stories of robbers and robberies and horrid murders all the
while. On leaving Rio Frio, the road became more hilly and covered with
woods, and we shortly entered the tract known by the name of the Black
Forest, a great haunt for banditti, and a beautiful specimen of forest
scenery, a succession of lofty oaks, pines, and cedars, with wild flowers
lighting up their gloomy green. But I confess that the impatience which I
felt to see Mexico, the idea that in a few hours we should actually be
there, prevented me from enjoying the beauty of the scenery, and made the
road appear interminable.

But at length we arrived at the heights looking down upon the great valley,
celebrated in all parts of the world, with its framework of everlasting
mountains, its snow-crowned volcanoes, great lakes, and fertile plains,
all surrounding the favoured city of Montezuma, the proudest boast of his
conqueror, once of Spain's many diadems the brightest. But the day had
overcast, nor is this the most favourable road for entering Mexico. The
innumerable spires of the distant city were faintly seen. The volcanoes