My wife visited that winter at Fort Selden with Mrs. Conrad, wife of Lieutenant Conrad, who was quartermaster at Fort Stanton when we were there, and who died at sea on his way back from the Spanish war in Cuba.
We were in the habit at Fort McRae of trading an army ration to which I was entitled, in addition to my pay, to Mexicans for vegetables, eggs, etc., or paying cash as the occasion offered. One day a Mexican brought a grain sack full of onions and we weighed them and found they weighed a little over forty-one pounds. I agreed to pay him four cents a pound, but said to him we will call it forty pounds and allow the balance for the weight of the sack. He could not speak English but I could talk Spanish enough to make him understand and he would nod his head and say "Bueno" (Good) but when I counted out the money he did not seem satisfied. I went over it repeatedly showing it was one dollar and sixty cents and he would nod his head and say "Bueno" but went away and brought another Mexican with him who understood and talked English, and when he heard the transaction repeated he called his fellow countryman a fool and they walked away together. I counted the onions after they had gone, and there were just twenty-four of them. I like to tell this story to my friends, for while they smile their assent, there is an expression on their faces that is at least suggestive. Two or three of the onions that I measured were over eighteen inches in circumference. These onions were raised in the Rio Grande valley and were as crisp as celery, and comparatively free from the characteristic sting of the ordinary onion. Eggs were fifty cents per dozen and if one did not need any today, they would take them back home, and perhaps bring them tomorrow at the same price, but would not take less. We paid one dollar per pound for butter to Mrs. Jack Martin who sent it to us by the messenger who went there for our mail, and it was very choice butter.
At the Sutler's store one day I was introduced to a Mr. Garcia, a young man of fine appearance, and who could talk English well, who had returned from the university for his vacation. I found him very interesting and intelligent, and while we were talking, Mr. Ayers, the post trader, brought us some native wine which we sipped while in conversation. He belonged to a wealthy family of Spanish descent and was quite a different type from the ordinary Mexican, and would compare favorably with our average university student. After he had gone Mr. Ayers told me his name in full was "Hasoos Christo Garcia." I spell it this way to give the Spanish pronunciation, and not the Spanish spelling. In the middle name the accent is on the first syllable. In English the name would be Jesus Christ Garcia, and this is not mentioned in this startling way, in any spirit of irreverence, for a name that is held sacred over a great part of the world, but is done for the purpose of showing the difference in the customs of different countries. Jesus Christ is almost as common a given name among the Mexicans as James or John is with us.