Those were the days of open-handed hospitality on the Mexican ranches. No introduction was necessary. People came and went on horseback, hung their saddles on pegs and their hats on the floor, and stayed as long as they liked.
Everywhere I stopped I was welcomed. The owner came in from the fields, knocked off work for the day, produced tequila, coffee, cigarettes, and sat down under the porch for a talk. The coffee- pot and bean-pot were always over the fire and in constant requisition. There was no great variety of food at the table, but the meats and vegetables were tastily cooked, and, if there were young girls in the family, there was singing, to the accompaniment of the guitar, during and after the dinner. When it came to retiring for the night, one simply dragged out a rawhide or canvas cot to whatever part of the premises he pleased, spread his blankets, and went to sleep listening to the dogs chasing coyotes.
The hospitality was very simple, whole-hearted, and very gratefully received because of its fine spirit.
John C. Van Dyke