The daily morning journal and courier., 1900-01-25

Born-A Glimpse of Palos, the Plac
 Where Columbus Sailed to the Dis
 eovery of America.
 Special Correspondence of the Journa
 and Courier)
 Cadz, Spain, Dec. 2S.-We are mol
 'doing the Spanish tour" in the
 straight and narrow way of the ortho
 dox guide e-book, but according to the
 vagrant fances of our own sweet will
 as to routes and details. On the prin-
 ciple that one does not travel far to find
 familiar things, we ignored the comfort
 able but commonplace steamers of
 England and Germany, and took pas
 sage at Lisbon on a little Portuguese
 coaster whose jabbering of strange
 tongues, unguessable menu and pirati-
 cal looking crew-each swarthy villain
 with knife stuck in his belt. a la ope-
 ra bouffe-promised plenty of 'the spice
 of life"
 Thus we sailed down the Tagus and
 out to sea, hugging the coast all the
 way down the peninsula, in full view of
 the dark Sierra do Caldeirao, but stop
 ping nowhere till after the sharp corner of Cabo do Sac Vicente was rounded;
 thence due east, along the province of Algarve, calling at many small ports to take on wine fish, oil, olives and other articles of Portuguese and Spanish
 trade. From Lagos, near the Cape, to the Guadiana river-which forms the boundary line between Spain and Por- tugal, narrow-gauge railway follows the shore, connecting the coast villages like the beads on a rosary. We reli- giously went ashore at each port of call although there is little in them to tempt the traveller. All present the same general features; a sandy beach, front ed with warehouses, lighters and fish ing-craft; one or two struggling streets, lined with white washed, tile-roofed casas; greedy customs officials and un- der-sized, wasp-waisted military at- taches, brave in buff, blue and green; comforta ble-1ooking padres, under shovel shaped chapeaux, and half-na- ked urchins with wonderfully brilliant eyes; brawny fisher-women. in blue kirtles and huge felt hats with bare feet and legs and enormous golden hoops in their ears; contented beggars, lounging in the sun, who put on pite- ous expression while whining their appeals, "por amor de Sanctissima Yer gin" but take rebuff as cheerfully as reward and call on the saints to bless you all the same. As everywhere else in Portugal, the omnipresent lottery ticket yender is abroad in the land, no hamlet being so poverty-stricken that It has not scores of them, male and fe- male selling halves, quarters, even eighths of tickets, and finding ready purchasers. Indeed the poorer the peo- pie, the more anxious they seem to buy; for is not the me-honored saying true, .'Tomorrow the wheel goes round?" Who knows but some twirl of Fortunes finger will place the grand prize in the hand of the man who is hungry to-day? Hope springs eternal in the human breast;" therefore everybody invests, from the Padre under his shovel hat, to the cheerful beggar lolling in the sun.
 So beautifully hospitable are the Por- tuguese people,-particularly those who | occupy that golden mean of station be- tween the proud but impoverished mo- biIity and the illiterate peasantry-that | the stranger who is lettering away an | hour or two, while his steamer dis | charges or takes on cargo, is sure of be- | Ing invited into somebody's home, to | rest under the shade of the corridor and | refresh himself with cooling drapght of wine or orangeade. He will be treat ed with all the courtesy accorded to an | expected guest; and when he departs 1 there will be cordial hand-shakes and fervent commendings to the care of the saints
 King Carlos too-contented subjects nay be shiftless and unprogressive but thefe is very much to be said in their favor. Perhaps theirs is the truest phil osophy-no kicking against the bricks of environment, but accepting With tranquil happiness whatever the dogs bestow. Rest is in sea and sky and earth and air-the hoary rest of centu- -ies, with peace and modest plenty. At their back-doors are mountains and valleys green the whole year through, Infailing in rich yield of fruit and rain; in front of them the sea- teeming with food, free for the taking. Scarcely how greater wealth night be desirable, they wonder why my human being should worry and trive; and as for him, or her, who hur- 'ies-Sacre Jesu! there must be some- hing radically wrong about so unrea- onable a person.
 To be sure, an American farmer, with lis modern methods, would easily ac- omplish in half day more than a .ang of Portuguese farm-hands can do n a week; but the former misses alto .ether the charming picturesqueness of ,astoral life. During the last thousand ears Portugal has made not single in any implement or uten- il Ground is still scratched with lows of the first pattern made by man , "a sharpened root, or the crotch Of rec; and it is dragged by oxen hitched andem in traces of braided straw. A | ozen men, women and children consid- F themselves indispensable to the till ng of each short furrow, clinging to the low handles, riding upon the beam, oading the oxen amid tremendous { houting and excitement; and when a sw feet of soil have been thus turned 1 yer, all sit down in the shadow of the owery hedge to enjoy well-earned si sta Why should they hurry when ummer never ends, and seed-time and f aryest come alike at the will of the ( lanter? l All American cereals grow with re- { luXuriance in southern For {