his voyage. One amusing circumstance was, that some penny-a-line rhymer had written an account of it in verse beforehand, giving a most grandiloquent account of the ascent of the balloon; and when we came out, the plaza was full of men selling these verses, which the people were all buying and reading with roars of laughter.
The first of May being San Felipe, there will be a ball at the French Minister's, to which we shall probably go.
25th.—We have just returned from a ride to San Bartolo, an Indian village, four leagues from this, where we went with a large party, some on horses, some on asses, others on mules, and one adventurous Jehu driving himself in a four-wheeled carriage, with a pair of horses, over a road formed of ruts, stones, holes and rocks, where, I will venture to say, no carriage ever made its appearance before. Even the horses and asses got along with difficulty. In spite of large straw hats and green veils, we were burnt the color of red Indians. In the middle of the day, we find the sun intolerable at present, and owing to the badness of the roads, we did not reach our destination until twelve or one o'clock.
San Bartolo is a small, scattered Indian village, with a church, and is remarkable for a beautiful spring of water, that jets cold and clear from the hard rock, as if Moses had but just smote it; for its superb tall pine trees; for the good looks and cleanness of the Indian women, who are forever washing their long hair in the innumerable clear streamlets formed by the spring; and for a view of Mexico,
