File:Wanderings in Mexico; the spirited chronicle of adventure in Mexican highways and byways (1912) (14595559700).jpg

Identifier: wanderingsinmexi00gill (find matches)
Title: Wanderings in Mexico; the spirited chronicle of adventure in Mexican highways and byways
Year: 1912 (1910s)
Authors: Gillpatrick, Owen Wallace, 1862-1925
Subjects: Mexico -- Description and travel
Publisher: London : E. Nash
Contributing Library: University of California Libraries
Digitizing Sponsor: MSN

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were half-crooned, half-whined in a complain-ing, yet not unmusical tone, and brought a dim, evanes-cent impression of ways of living and thinking, unknownbut fascinating. There was also a torero, who did agrotesque dance, going through remarkable contortionsand making hideous grimaces. Taken in connectionwith the melancholy music, the night, the gaunt shadowscast by the trees and the circle of swarthy faces, the per-formance was gruesome and made one wonder wherehe really was. It created a burning desire to go toAndalusia. Moreno pintan a Crista:Morena a la Magdaleiia:Moreno es el bien que yo adoro:Viva la gente viorena. A man sang this verse, leaning against a tree and gailystrumming a guitar. It was a tribute to the brunetteor swarthy type. The substance of his ditty was thatboth Christ and the Magdalen were pictured as morenos(brunes) : that it was the type he most adored, endingwith Viva the brown people! Another refrain went: Morena — Morena — IMorena — tu quitas los rayos
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THE MAN WHO LIKES MEXICO 269 del sol! In other words, beauteous morena dimsthe rays of the sun. All the beauty was not Andalusian. The eyes of theMexican women are luminous as the Spanish, languidas the Oriental, with the added charm of tristeza, which,wjiile purely hereditary and not indicative of character, isalways interesting. On this occasion, las Mexicanas andtheir escorts contented themselves with promenading,waltzing or watching the antics of their livelier Spanishcousins, from the veranda of the casino. I presumed theMexican youth was saving his strength and his lungs for Viva Mexico! on the night of the wildly inspiring grito (cry) of independence. One of the funniest experiences of the night was atalk with two members of the Artilleria. At the closeof a number, one of the players turned to me of his ownaccord, showed me the music, which contained the linesto Espaiia and Andalusia, and told me the piece waswritten by a young comrade. I construed it as a simpleact of Mexican

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