The daily morning journal and courier. [volume] (New Haven, Conn.) 1894-1907, 1899-02-23

"
them illumine the darkness better thai
tallow dip. Nowadays there Is la
inevitable drought of the -jell.
that used to circulate by hundreds o
tons in Cuba, because the trees which
yielded such enormous quantities O.
guavas were mostly destroyed by ONT
army or the other. The favorite com
pote with whose agreeable taste anc
beneficent qualities everybody is ia
miliar, usually comes in bars, like
brown soap, or sealed in cans. In al
first-class hotels and private houses
throughout the West Indies it figures
prominently at breakfast and dinner
served with queso, (cheese) at dessert
and the traveller soon considers it in
dispensable.
Now and then the train stops to WA
ter" at some wayside elevated cistern;
and always close by is a so-called lunch
room, wherein unkempt negresses dis
pense coffee, Catalina wine and cana
rum, together with unguessable conun-
drums in stews and dulcies. The trav-
eler who has not brought along a we'll
filled lunch basket finds himself worse
off than the foolish virgins whose
lamps went out, for he stands chance
of sem-starvation in the long journey
between Cienfuegos and Matanzas. But
he would better endure the Dangs OF
hunger than imbibe his peck of dirt
prematurely in the miserable but high
priced food handled by the unwashed
sampled by proving dogs and naked
babies and literally peppered with flea
laden dust. At every station the scene
is the same; idle habitants, doing the
heavy standing around business in
rags of wretchedness: lean ours
| searching hungrily for crumbs and dis
putting ecah find" with juvenile gamins
arily attired in dirty skins: and wo-
men, clad only in one scant garment,
sitting comfortably in cottage doors,
undisturbed by the thought that polite
society might demand more clothing.
You pass through many picturesque
hamlets, all bearing the unmistably ear
marks of antiquity and old Spain. Each
has it's white-washed church, with a
breast-high facing of piledup stones,
showing that 1t was turned into a fort
during the war; and all the ware
houses and depots along the line are
protected by similar walls or covered
with corrogugated tin or iron, with
its posada which might have sat to
General Lew Wallace for picture of
the one described in Ben Hur. In front
of the posada groups of natives are
putting lazily at cigarettes, and rows
of shaggy ponies are tied with their
noses close to the open doors. People,
ponies, houses, hedges. are all stained
and discolored with the red soil, like
our western Indians arrayed in their
war paint. This pigment, constantly
blowing in pillows of fine dust, pene-
trates everything, and each separate
grain of dust carries with it an exceed
ingly active fea-apparently the only
Industrious denizens of this land of
manana Hardly a wheeled vehicle is to
be seen in long days journey, for the
country roads of Cuba are only for
equestrians, and not for them during a
portion of the year.
Nearing Matanzas-Cubas second
city in size, which lies within sixty
miles of Havana-the prospect under
goes considerable change. Decent
houses. with tiled roofs and tinted
walls, are more frequent, roads that
look tolerably good wind off among
plantations, and the palmbark huts of
the craftsmanship hapless country
people whom Weyler concentrated" al
most to their extinction-again show
signs of occupation. Some of the farm
ers are scratching up the earth with
rude plows made of the crooked branch
es of trees, precisely like the implements
that have been used in Egypt since
Moses day. Indeed the whole land
scape reminds of Syria and the Nile re-
gion, the dust being that of Egyptian
deserts and the thermometer lowering
in the neighborhood of ninety degrees
all the mid-winter day. Occasional
groups of splendid palms are seen, toss
ing their green plumes against cloud
less sky. The song of the thrush and
the tomeguina is in the air; and here
and there are evidences of cane-plant-
ing and garden making. But the val
ley of Matanzas-the Incompatible
Yumi yale of Paradise of the
oborigines-is no longer the beauty
spot of the world. To-day it is more a
grave yard, of wrecked fortunes and
ruined homes. Each melancholy mound !
which marks what was once a habita-
ton or a sugar mill, is thickIy over
grown with blossoming creepers-so
quickly does mother nature hide her
in these regions of eternal sum- I
ner. You are struck by the sickly, I'M !
lersizad, half-starved appearance of the |
cattle, like the lean kline of Pharmah's |
1ream-though verdure of certain
kinds is so rank and beautiful: for no
Itch green sward grows in the tropics
and hay is never made.
Approaching Matanzas city-hot
hungry, weary and so be-powdered
with 1.-The sacred dust of marty soil''
hat your dearest friend would hardly
'ecognize you-a sudden Whit of cool
lir, blown straight from the Mexican
iulf, revives you like a draught of
vine; and presently you see the broad,
blue harbor of Matanzas glistening like
polished mirror under the afternoon
Jun. Around the commodious railway
tation you find cabs, hacks and vo,antes
,alore, and Jehus who have lately pick
d up enough English to assail your
ars with cries of Here Senor!' COON
Wis me al Hotel del Ferro Carril! Bes'
House ell Ciervo d. Dro, Cthe Golden
,tag)! Casa la Lonore. Hotel Endsor!
81 Lion de Espana and all the rest of