Mix 4 Kids, Mexico Policeman, Camera, Horse-And Dad Pays

[Page 1] US ON A BUS Mix 4 Kids, Mexico Policeman, Camera, Horse-And Dad Pays (Charles G. Griffo, news editor of The Star, is traveling on a Greyhound bus through 6,000 miles of the South. and Southwest with four of his six children. Mrs. G. remains at home with the other two Griffo children. Here is his fifth story.) By CHARLES G. GRIFFO Juarez, Mexico-A wooden horse, four kids, a Japanesemade camera and one Mexican policeman with the leer of a silent movie villain c om bined with yours truly in this historic city to make what for a mom.en t seemed to be an international incident Griffo as fiery as New York Mayor Wagner's snub of King Saud. It all started because, as I've said before, we just didn't see any horses while riding on the Greyhound bus Chuck, 9, was looking in a souvenir shop window at switch-blade knives, fully aware that the Indiana General Assembly had mad e possession of such a weapon verboten. Martha, 14, was looking at a hand-made skirt and jewelry which she knew very well was out of our price range, even in terms of Mexican pesos. "LET ME RIDE the horsey" yells Mary E.., thinking it was one of those mechanical geniuses that keep you shelling out dimes in supermarkets back home. "I wanta ride too," yells Gregory. "I wanta ride first." Father had been gazing at a window which offered top-notch vodka for $1.50 a fifth and was contemplating Russian roulette the easy way. "Wait a minute," I say. "You can't ride, wait!" It was then I decided that Turn to Page 9, Column 1 75. from New Orleans to El Paso through scenic Texas. It was across the border in this old Mexican city which is literally alive with its 125,000 residents, tourist shops, saloons and street photographers that we saw one. - IT WAS WOODEN, rather odd in color as the sun had bleached the dark-brown paint to a yellowish tinge, and it caught the fancy of both Mary Elizabeth, 6, and Gregory, 4½•.

[Page 2] Us On -A Bus Concluded From Page 1 a snapshot of the family grouped in front of the sunbleached horse might be an interesting picture to send home. THEY POSED, all smiles, in typical tourist fashion. 1 snapped, the air Japanese of the cam- true professional. I snapped the shutter again. Then we gaily started up the avenue, to shop, sightsee and cement Latin relations. I only got three steps when the Mexican cop stepped in. "Pley ze man two-bits," he says, talking through his pearly white teeth. "WHAT FOR," says I, the temperature rising. "For ze picture," he says. "I took the picture," says I. "I tookee de picture The cop leered again, his hand out, and pointed to a street photographer to whom the horse belonged. "I took the picture, not he. argues I. "Heezhorse," says 1 the cop, hands out, "two bits "Win, place or show," quip as I give the man 25 cents. He was bigger than I. WE HURRIED away down the narrow streets of this fascinating city visiting the city park, located right smack dab in the middle of town, and crowded to the street with peddlers, shoeshine boys and residents just gossiping at noon time. We spent more than we expected too, which was natural, buying souvenir and assorted items I am sure we could jewelry, have purchased in the States for about the same price. We gave a dime or two to a couple of Mexican urchins who ply the begging trade among tourists. WE, THEN WENT to the city's beautiful and historic cathedral. When Martha balked going up the steps and said she'd wait outside, I realized why. She was wearing shorts and didn't even have a handkerchief to put on her head. We toured the business district and then boarded the trolley car for the ride across the narrow but fabled Rio Grande River, which is absolutely dry at the present time. This being a situation confusing to a 9-yearold, Chuck couldn't understand how a river can be dry. Tonight we leave for New Mexico and Arizona. Mountains, gold mines, copper mines, cowboys and the Valley of the Sun. JUNE 20, a