another; they all smile, kiss the new-comer, and show most enviable ivory teeth, thus saluting age and youth with fine poetic instincts. Then they bring forward their oldest man, Manuel, the African prince, who performs the same Oriental homage and utters more rude original rhymes, to which the whole family listen politely, and they all disappear slowly; the festival of a Santa Cruz Christmas is at an end.
We went through the Caribbean Sea towards Cuba, stopping at Jacmel — miserable place — at Hayti and Jamaica, all very sad; rounded the island of Cuba, and came to those fortifications at Havana which cost the Spanish king so much that he asked if they were built of silver! Our steamer happened to be the English Trent, which years after was made historical by the fact that Mason and Slidell were on board of her when a Yankee gun stopped her further progress, Havana was then a beautiful, peaceful town, full of rich people who were fond of entertaining. I remember we attended a grand fête at the palace of Mr. Aldama, the richest of the Cubans. It was fairy-like in its beauty, regal in magnificence. We went to the opera, one of the gayest in the world; we drove in a volante up and down that gorgeous Paseo of a Sunday afternoon, all the ladies in full dress; we bought fans; we enjoyed and explored the romantic Spanish city, full of luxury. But, alas! the negroes, the slaves with the chain-gang, each with an iron ball on a lame leg, cleaning the streets, spoiled it for me. Even then Americans were objects of suspicion, and we had to conceal our identity while an English officer took us over the Moro Castle. We went out to Matanzas to see a coffee plantation. It was all very gay and very tropical and yet unlike Santa Cruz. There was no ennui in this lively Havana
