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Good Friday—Mexican toys with symbolic sounds—“The Tampico incident”—Sabado de Gloria and Easter—An international photograph—The last reception at Chapultepec.
Viernes Santo Afternoon
As I came home from church this morning the sacred day seemed to be a day of noise. The Indians were busy in their booths along the Alameda. Thousands of small, wooden carts are bought by thousands of small boys and girls; metracas, they are called, and so constructed that, in addition to the usual noise, every revolution of the wheels makes a sound like the breaking of wood. This noise is supposed to typify the breaking of the bones of Judas. There are also appalling tin objects, like nutmeg-graters, that revolve on sticks, with the same symbolic sound. Little boys and girls outside the churches sell pious leaflets, crying in their shrill voices, “Las siete palabras de nuestro Señor Jesus Christo,” or “El pesame de nuestra Señora Madre de Dios.”
Something is brewing here, and it was with a heart somewhat perturbed by earthly happenings that I again went to the cathedral, at three o’clock. At the doors the little venders of the holy words were as insistent as ever. Thousands were filing in and out, going up with whatever burden of babe or bundle they happened to be carrying, to kiss the great cross laid on the steps of the high altar. I bethought me of last Good Friday in Rome, and of hearing Father Benson preach the “Three Hours” at San Sylvestro.