ora or senorita, with a dark lace veil thrown over her jet
black hair, hastening to early mass; but, above all, behold the glorious
sun encircling the frosty brow of Orizaba with a halo of gold and silver
which sparkles like diamonds in the clear, crisp morning atmosphere. How
full of vivid pictures is the memory of these early morning hours in
Mexico!

In a small village known as Jalapilla, situated about a couple of miles
south of the city, is the spot where Maximilian resided for a brief
period after the French army had deserted him. Here he held the famous
council as to whether he should abdicate the Mexican throne or not. He
was more than half inclined to do it. It was really the only
common-sense course which was left open to him. Had he done so, he might
have been living to-day. Vera Cruz was close at hand and easily reached,
a French steamship lay off San Juan d'Ulloa ready to take him across the
sea, but there were three causes working against his abdication. First,
his own pride; second, the pressure of the church party; and, last but
not least, the confident counsels of Carlotta. These influences
prevailed, and decided him to remain. He thus challenged the inevitable
fate which ended his career at Queretaro. That two generals who were on
his personal staff believed in his star and were wedded to his service
under all circumstances, was fully proven in the fact that they made no
attempt to escape, but calmly and devotedly died by his side when the
crisis finally came.

The railroad station at Orizaba adjoined a neat inclosure, which is a
small floral paradise, exhibiting very clearly a woman's taste in the
arrangement and cultivation. Roses white and red, lilies tall and
pearl-colored, the scarlet hibiscus, tube-roses, orange-trees,
coffee-trees full of berries, all are to be seen here, with a few
bananas waving their long, broad green leaves, like pennons, over the
undergrowth, and showing their one pendulous blossom as large as a
pineapple.

The descent from the high elevation of Orizaba is continued, the route
leading through groves of bananas, maize and sugar plantations, and
creeping down the steep sides of a terrific gorge over a thousand feet
deep, where the purple shadows look like shrouded phantoms hastening out
of sight. This abyss is crossed by means of extraordinary engineering
skill, much of the roadway along the nearly perpendicular side of the
ravine having been hewn out of the solid rock. To