Morning journal and courier., 1888-05-21


 upon four of the most important Cuban provinces One fancies 1t could have been seen just as it now is centuries ago, and that centuries can bring it no change. This one and all others of pretension hereabout are built of the porous Cuban stone, which hardens from exposure. They are immense ly large in ground area and but one lofty story in height; though under the center of the roof there is guardilla or garret which the great New England "hipped" roef can- not anywhere equal. Set up few feet from the ground on large square stone pillars, per hitting free passage of the air underneath, as with many olden southern plantation houses, huge beams of guabrahaca wood rest upon these, and upon this foundation the walls are laid. From the high peak the roof descends in long concave sweep not only to the side walls, but twenty feet beyond for the covering of porches so broad that, en- closed as they are at will by immense reed become spacious additions to the living rooms of the house. At the two other sides the same sort of bellying roofs curve down ward and outward, covering other immense verandas, so that the already large house is entirely surrounded by these extraordinary porches. From a distance the structure seems all roof; and this roof, which is laid with alternate convex and concave ti1ing, is the quaintest thing you ever saw in its moss es puces and browns, dscked here and there by dspples of sunlight occasionally breaking through the laurels and palms.
 THE GREAT HALL.
 In these great country dwellings the city patio or court is seldom seen. But extending from front to rear through the center of the whole house, often distance of an hundred feet, is such hall or interior as would put houses to shame. The outer doors leading to these are massive as cathedral doors. At either side are large unglazed ventanas or windows, guarded by iron work of the most fanciful foliations, and the broad, low edges to these are Winsome retreats for observation or dangerous siesta. The walls of this great hall are set at frequent intervals with im- mense mahogany pillars, across from the plain cappings of which extend huge beams supporting the floor above. These pillars and beams are unornamented save with occa- sioaal high relief carvings upon the latter of the heads of wild animals and the hercer faces of ancient Spanish chevaliers; and be. tween these at intervals are hung the still more ferocious machetes, sabres and century old firearms comprising the portentous fam fly arsenal. To the right and left are lofty screen covered entrances to the score or more spacious living rooms, and between these are broad divans over which rawhide or cane is Enthusiastically Stretched. From the center of the ceiling hangs huge cande1abra, below
 
 lamp in brass and underneath this is a cir cular divan, upon which dozen may rest, built around a great bronze urn used as re- ceptacle 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 ma- hogany or cedar beams rich in generations of coloring; the beds of brass and iron and rosewood are vast and canopied; the cup boards and dressers and chiffoniers 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 glisteaing drops upon their porous sides, suggest the sudden apparition of Rebecca at the well. . PLEASANT LIVING.
 l If there are toll and onerous daily duties about these old plantations I could not dis cover them. Something must be allowed for 1 the cheer in the return of one score of years absent, and that one Cuban refugee | who had amassed wealth and gained position \ in America, as was true of my host, Don | Manuel. But after few days of this nor | nal conditions returned, and we all lived | just as all always live in this transcendently
 beautiful and luxurious land. Everybody | even to the humblest of the horde of blacks ! seemed to aW6k0n ln GQ6 mOTQ1QR WQ6u LOt songs of the little mountain stream behind | the house, and of the birds about and above \ the house, make sleep no longer possible Between eight and nine 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 art
 sent to your bedside if that is your pleasure l You see and hear little of your friends col actively for few hours, and may watch tbt ! lazy negro house servants, or the lazier negro stablemen and field hands, to your hearti content; stroll among the orange groves wander up and down the stream, studying soil and rocks and fora; have bout witt | the countless saucy birds which whirl anG l chatter and carol among the grasses, Howeri \ and verdure; but between eleven and twelve ! o'clock desayuno or breakfast is called anG
 the first greetings of the day are made | Again this splendid tropical fruit is served | in bewildering variety; coffee again appear l in floods; bread made of mixed wheat anl yuca; wild and domestic fowls fried to | golden brown; eggs in all manner of ediblt | form; delicious chicharones or pork scrap | done to toothsome and brittle tenderness; al appear at 8 meal which is invariably extend | ed over an hour or more of pleasant chatter dalliance and badinage. Between this tim and comida or dinner the ladies of the house
 hold are invisible. It is a period in well-to
 do homes throughout Cuba of absolute siest
 and rest. The odor-laden breezes distil ant
 wait to the most vigorous frame and spirited
 intellect the sirenic spell and thrall of indif
 ference, 1istlessness and languorous dreams
 The household is silent within. The bird
 are quiet without. Tropical sea and lant
 and sky are hushed and still But from din
 ner at five there is cheery awakening. Tn
 breezes return. The birds thrill and trill a
 in our own June mornings. Women, men
 beasts and fowls are alive again. The dime
 is brilliant with flowers and quaint old tahl
 services, and rarer faces and wonderful fans
 and courtly ways. The evening glows an'
 grows as the wondrous stars above. Th
 tropic night with it's odors and palms, beau
 ties and breezes, is au intoxioant. A dainty
 "tea" is taken at nine. Here, there and al about the place is the thrum of guitar, tn twang of bandurria, the silvery echo of ban
 dolin, mingled with the strange and thrilling
 minors of Spanish song, from parlor t.
 "quarters;" and it is midnight before tn
 myriads of fire flies whirl and swirl in thei
 wayering witch-dances through silence aroun
 this old plantation home.
 EDGAR L. WAKEMAN. | --@@-@-
 l SEEKS.
 =