DURING Parsons's final visit to Mitla in the 1933 spring, with
the intricate patterns of Indian and Spanish cultural threads worked
out to her satisfaction, she was able to concentrate on the sort of
work she loved best--capturing the flavor of contemporary Mitla
life. Allowing herself to be reabsorbed into "this vivid but very
objective Mexico where the rest of your life falls away from you so
completely," she moved decisively from being a diffusionist to being
a modernist. "Just now I am describing it in some thing like what
at college we called daily themes," she wrote John. A few weeks
later she was engrossed in what had become her chapter on town
gossip: it was getting quite novel-like, she wrote, "full of murder
and intrigue and could not be published if there were a Mexican
libel law or pueblo folk read books." From Mitla she wrote to
George Young, who replied with amusement: "You seem to have
been enjoying Mexico in your own way--which is the only way of
enjoying anything. You were, I remember, one of those travellers
that delighted in discomfort." "Yes--I would make good copy out
of you," he concluded, no doubt referring to Herrick's book, "if I
weren't a British Baronet." ¹

Parsons found much changed in Mitla after her two years' ab-
sence. Eligio had become catrín (citified), wearing a homburg in-
stead of his broad-brimmed black felt hat, his shirt tucked in, rather
than tied in front, and his trousers held up by a leather belt. He
was also chewing gum. He was pleased to report that many changes
had taken place since Parsons's last visit. A federal school had been
established; the school children had made a garden in front of the
town hall; a stage had been erected in the plaza; basketball was all
the rage; and a plebiscite had been held to elect the town president
at the direction of the state governor, who had also banned mayor-
domías. "Ya es moderno, now it is modern," Eligio told Parsons
approvingly--"no more costly mayordomías, no more costly wed-

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