Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 98, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 April 1913 — LI ON “GRINGOS’’ [ARTICLE]

LI ON “GRINGOS’’

Mat amor as, Mex., Preserved by the American Manufacturer.

Was Once a City of Activity—-Rio Grande, an Impregnable Wall Between Old' and New, Hae Stopped Progress.

El Paso, Tex. —The Rio Grande flows in its purpllsh-ocre stream but a few miles ,away, writes a correspondent from Matamoras. North of this meandering, slit laden watercourse is the country of achievement and Advancement —so close that bullets fired by Constitutionalists or Federalists frequently find lodgment therein. Yet on this side of the river the sweeping is done with a broom made of twigs. The river is more than a boundary line. It is a great, seemingly impregnable wall between'the old and. the new, the then and the now. It Is the end of the one and the beginning of the other. A few hundred feet at its widest, yet it apparently has stopped the march of centuries.

Over yonder they say woman must not work more than so many hours a week. They talk of “equalj wages for equal work." Commissions are studying ways and means to elevate the condition of their sisters, seeking to find avenues that will lead to cosier and happier times. Here, the women peer furtively through bars of iron, shield their faces with the mantilla •as they pass Along the street and they pass as shadows, silently, furtively stealing glances in their journeys. And they pound the beans to make the cakes or grind the meal because woman is cheaper than machine and does not wear out so fast The faces of these brown women are sad aB they'converse In their low tones, the liquids of their language flowing along in a sort of a melody—yet a melody of which sorrow is the theme. And so It is' In Matamoras. Once 60,000 pebple had their homes there. In the past it was the Beene of much activity. The cotton ships called there and took away great burdens of fleecy white. Men bought and sold and the women were bedecked In finery. But those who saw the ships come, now sleep in the little cemetery over near the bull ring and the glory of Matamoras has fled with them since It is no longer a seaport Only boats of the very lightest draft could call at

Matamoras now, though the Rio Grande at this point is supposed to be navigable, and the international bridge has a draw, but nobody remembers of having seen It swing Matamoras lives on and by the bull fight, like many another town on the border. It has a soap factory and a glycerin factory, but they are owned by Americans, 20 in all making thA town their home. The gringo may be hated and despised, but.lt Is his dollars that keeps the ancient town alive. Hence, he is tolerated, and the Mexican makes the most of him. In between is sandwiched every kind of petty graft from that of the street car conductor who, when making change on the four cent fare, hands you a Mexican centavo instead of an American cent, and thereby enriches himself by a half penny; to the curio merchant, who, not content with advancing his price when there are many strangers in town, slips you along with yoUr American money a Mexican nickel and adds two and one-half cents to his profit It is but a short walk from the

plaza to the cemetery. There the dead rest in vaults on top of the ground. These vaults —built of burned family eaa afford it or adobe, if it Is poor—are equipped with hooks so that the mourning signs may be without difficulty. The Mexican is apt to be economical of time In bis mourning. Fresh flowers ard plentiful and cheap, they can be had In the fields for the picking, but they have to be renewed. But the permanent occupancy even of the last abode is not guaranteed. On the authority of the little old man who sits at the gate and accepts coppers that are tendered him—by request—ls a half dollar a year, in gold. Is not paid by those who survive those at rest, or there is not some provision through legacy, then the tomb is opened, .the coffin removed and the bones thrown into a corner to be covered by naught else save by the merciful weeds. There were quite a number of the brothers and sisters who failed to pay their dues, as the heap testifies.