Rensselaer Republican, Volume 17, Number 41, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 June 1885 — Mexican Senoritas. [ARTICLE]

Mexican Senoritas.

The streets of Mexico are, in a measure, unlike those of any other city we have so far visited. Straight, wide, and lined with handsome houses two or three stories high, almost invariably of stone, and lighted by large windows opening upon the small stone balconies, it loses something of the English character which the narrow lanes of black adobe walls give the lesser towns, but gains a corresponding richness. These little balconies, ornamented often by carvings and always by balustrades of wrought iron, often brightened by gilding and color, and shaded by linen awnings, make a feature in themselves. Here on Sunday and fete day, as well as toward evening, the youth of the citygather in the full dress of private life, and the stolen glances, -which form the only intercourse allowed between the sexes, flash back and forward between youth and maiden. Even deprived of the opportunity for interchange of vows, for hand-clasping, and tender greeting, it is self-evident that a young Mejicana, true to the traditions of her Castilian forebears, can make as much havoc with her languishing dark eyes and the softly fluttering fan, which supplements them, as any other girl arrayed in the full rational outfit of courtship. This is true, of'course, only when she, as alway should be, but seldom is, happens to be beautiful. The pretty girls are exquisite. The slender oval of the face, the rich olive of the cheek, the long, sweeping dark lashes of the superb eyes glowing at once, with passion and tenderness, the low forehead with its Tippling mass of dusky hair, the slender neck, the lithe form, the springy step, and the dainty foot make them like a poet’s dream of darkly brilliant loveliness, not to be measured by any type with which we have been heretofore familiar. But nature is never over-lav-ish, and the number of these splendid creatures is as few as their perfections are many. Remembering the streets at home after the Friday afternoon rehearsal, filled with the fragile, flower-like bloom of winsome but delicate girlhood, its brave eyes looking the world full in the face, with that mixture of innocence and boldness which is the hybrid blossom of modern civilization, these shy but rich specimens, as rare as they are wonderful, look few indeed. Their perfection is offset by the equally pronounced ugliness on the part of the many, and young womanhood changes into faded middle age even sooner than with us—which is saying a great deal. Nevertheless the graceful lace mantilla, which is yet almost univer sally worn in the street, but which, unfortunately, is beginning to give way to the ugly stiffness of the French hat and bonnet, gives to many a plain face such a soft and effective background that one brings back from a walk only a piquant and pleasing impression. If the Mexican women knew what they were about they would cling to this becoming headdress as they do to their faith; the sex has no right to set aside such a charming accessory.— Letter in Boston Journal.