, 1888-05-20

tween these are broad divans over which
rawhide or cane is Enthusiastically stretched.
From the center of the ceiling hangs a
huge candelabra, below which depends an
ancient and enormous lamp in brass; and
underneath this is a circular divan, upon
which a dozen may rest, built around a
great bronze urn used as a receptacle for
pot-pourris of tropic flowers.
Every room in the old mansion is as
quaint and interesting as this. The floors
are OF large brick tiles, with occasional
centerpieces from the rare old Spanish
potteries. The walls are like snow, the
ceilings are blue as the sky above, save
where stretches the mahogany or cedar
beams, rich in generations of coloring;
the beds of brass and iron and rosewood
are vast and canopied, the cupboards and
dressers and chifioners are stately and
shining and tall, the rocking chairs are
fabulous in number, height and deep,
low sweep, and the Egyptian ewers,
standing everywhere with their glistening
drops upon their porous sides, suggests
the sudden apparition of Rebecca at the
well.
If there are toll and onerous daily du-
ties about these old plantations, | could
NV hloCONOl lhCu. OOLucluluR mubJ Dt
allowed for the cheer in the return Of one
a score OF years absent, and that one a
Cuban refugee who had amassed wealth
and gained position in America, as was
true of my host Don Manuel. But after
a few days of this, normal conditions re-
turned, and we all lived Just as all always
live in this transcendently beautiful and
luxurious land. Everybody. ever to the
humblest of the horde of blacks, seemed
to awaken in the morning when the songs
of the little mountain stream behind the
house, and the birds about and above the
house, make sleep no longer possible.
Between s and 9 o'clock coffee" the
universal Cuban forerunner of late break
fast, is served. A long table is spread in
the great hall where members of the
household come at will. There will be
found every manner of tropical fruit,
good bread, sweet butter and coffee.
All of these things are sent to your
bedside if that Is your pleasure. You see
and hear little OF your friends. collective
ly, for a few hours, and may watch the
lazy negro house servants, or the lazier
negro stablemen and field hands to your
hearts content; and stroll among the
orange groves; wander up and down the
stream studying soil and rocks and fora;
have a bout with the countless saucy birds
which whirl and chatter and carol among
the grasses, flowers and vendure; buC be-
tween IL and ~ o'clock d~esayuno or
breakfast is called and the first greetings
of the day are made. Again this splendid
tropical fruit is served in bewi,dering va
riety; coffee again appears in floods; bread,
made OF mixed wheat and yucca; wild and
domestic fowls fried to a golden brown;
eggs in all manner of edible form; deli
cious chicharones or pork scraps done to
toothsome and brittle tenderness-all ap-
pear at a meal which is invariably extend
cd over an hour or more of pleasant
chatter, dalliance and badinage. Between
this time and comida or dinner, the ladies
of the household are invisible. 1t is a
period in well-to do homes throughout
Cuba of absolute siesta and rest. The
odor laden breezes distill and watt to the
most vigorous frame and spirited intellect
the Sirenic spell and thrall ofindifference,
listnessness and dangerous dreams.
The household is silent within. The
birds are quiet without. Tropical sea and
land and sky are hushed and still. But
from dinner at 5 there is CHEEKY awaken
ing. The breezes return. The birds
thrill and trill as in our juno mornings.
Women, men, beasts and fowls are alive
again. The dinner is brilliant with flow
ers, and quaint old table services; and
rarer laces, aud wonderful fans and court
ly ways. The evening CLOVIS and grows,
as the wondrous stars above. The troplc
night with its odors and balms, beauties
and breezes is an intoxicant. A dainty
'tea" is taken at 9. Here and there,
and all about the place is the thrum of the
guitar, the twang of bandurria, the silvery
echo of bandolin, mingled with the strange
and thrilling minors of Spanish song
from parlor to quarters and it is mid
night before the myriads of fire flies whir
and swirl in their wavering witch dances
through silence around the old planta
ton home.
EDGAR l. WAKEMAN.