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Updated: May 20, 2025
From Manteca the road penetrated into contracting valleys, until finally it might, with propriety, be called a cañon road. At half past eight we reached San Carlos, a mean town with no meson or other regular stopping-place. We left the horses under the shady trees with the old farrier.
Since Humboldt's visit many lesser men have gashed the old tree to leave their mark. As it was now darkening we hurried to the meson of the village. The old lady in charge received us with suspicion; she could not feed us and refused to receive us into the house for the night; she would permit us to sleep outside, in the corridor which we might have done without asking permission.
Long after dark, we rode into Juquila. The cura had gone to bed; the meson had no room for us and no food for our horses; our case seemed desperate. We heard, however, noisy laughter and the loud voices of men drinking. So I begged Ernst to seek the presidente and tell him our needs while I looked after the animals. The official was at the tienda, drinking with his friends.
Still, we slept well, and were up betimes next morning. Assuming that his knowledge was adequate, we left our meson early, with the intention of breakfasting at San Pedrito, where we were assured that everything was lovely; we were also told that it was but a short distance. The road thither was through a high open country, planted to wheat and oats and with some maguéy.
From here we pushed on to Chilchota, the head town of the Once Pueblos. From the crest, just above the town, we looked down upon a level valley, green with new wheat. Entering the town a little after five, we rode up to the meson of San Francisco, near the little plaza. It was with difficulty that we secured a room containing a single bed, with mattress, and two mats.
For a long time we followed the almost level summit; then a little climb and a slight descent brought us to Huaclilla. At the meson we found real rooms and true beds, and decided to stay for the night. The supper was less attractive. A brief walk about the village brought to light two cases of small-pox, and, on returning to the meson, we were charmed to find a third one in the building itself.
They showed us the way to the meson and there we left Antonio with the horses, while the proprietor sent an idiot boy to show us the way to the convent, for our inspection of the meson decided us at once on seeking the hospitality of the monks for the night.
They seem to suggest that we are meant to starve progressively, or to go on eating larger and larger breakfasts every morning for ever. But the great truism of the MESON remains for all thinking men, and these people have not upset any balance except their own. But granted that we have all to keep a balance, the real interest comes in with the question of how that balance can be kept.
Now let me trace this notion as I found it. All sane men can see that sanity is some kind of equilibrium; that one may be mad and eat too much, or mad and eat too little. Some moderns have indeed appeared with vague versions of progress and evolution which seeks to destroy the MESON or balance of Aristotle.
But I think putting young people there, who know nothing of life, nothing of retirement, is dangerous and wicked . It is a saying as old as Hesiod, Erga neon, boulaite meson, enchaite geronton . That is a very noble line: not that young men should not pray, or old men not give counsel, but that every season of life has its proper duties.
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