f a mule bell.

I had seen it all so often in moving pictures that I
recognised the scene at once.

"So this is Mexico?" I repeated.

The station building beside me was little more than a
wooden shack. Its door was closed. There was a sort of
ticket wicket opening at the side, but it too was closed.

But as I spoke thus aloud, the wicket opened. There
appeared in it the head and shoulders of a little wizened
man, swarthy and with bright eyes and pearly teeth.

He wore a black velvet suit with yellow facings, and a
tall straw hat running to a point. I seemed to have seen
him a hundred times in comic opera.

"Can you tell me when the next train--?" I began.

The little man made a gesture of Spanish politeness.

"Welcome to Mexico!" he said.

"Could you tell me--?" I continued.

"Welcome to our sunny Mexico!" he repeated--"our beautiful,
glorious Mexico. Her heart throbs at the sight of you."

"Would you mind--?" I began again.

"Our beautiful Mexico, torn and distracted as she is,
greets you. In the name of the _de facto_ government,
thrice welcome. _Su casa!_" he added with a graceful
gesture indicating the interior of his little shack.
"Come in and smoke cigarettes and sleep. _Su casa!_ You
are capable of Spanish, is it not?"

"No," I said, "it is not. But I wanted to know when the
next train for the interior--"

"Ah!" he rejoined more briskly. "You address me as a
servant of the _de facto_ government. _Momentino!_ One
moment!"

He shut the wicket and was gone a long time. I thought
he had fallen asleep.

But he reappeared. He had a bundle of what looked like
railway time tables, very ancient and worn, in his hand.

"Did you say," he questioned, "the _in_terior or the
_ex_terior?"

"The interior, please."

"Ah, good, excellent--for the interior." The little
Mexican retreated into his shack and I could hear him
murmuring, "For the interior, excellent," as he moved to
and fro.

Presently he reappeared, a look of deep sorrow on his
face.

"Alas," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "I am _desolado!_
It has gone! The next train has gone!"

"Gone! When?"

"Alas, who can tell? Yesterday, last month? But it has
gone."

"And when will there be another one?" I asked.

"Ha!" he said, resuming a brisk official manner. "I
understand. Having missed the next, you propose to take
another one. Excellent! What business enterprise you
foreigners have! You miss your train! What do you do? Do
you aba