2

"Cuba is in sight, sir; can see it through your window," says the steward, rousing you up on the morning of the fourth day out; and, turning over in your berth, there, sure enough, are seen the hills of Cuba, and the indistinct outlines of the Morro Castle-looking, as you see them through your window, like some beautiful painting to which the oval of the dead-eye forms a frame.

We are fortunate in arriving so opportunely, for, had we arrived the previous evening after sundown, though it were still daylight, we would have been compelled to lie outside all night, as no vessels are allowed to enter after evening gun-fire, at sundown. There are the signals flying in the morning breeze from the watch-tower of the grim Morro Castle; and as we approach more nearly, we distinguish our dear old bunting, rivaling with its stars and stripes even the bright sky and sparkling waves.

First View of Havana.

And now we have before us a full view of Havana and its surroundings—the Morro Castle to the left; to the right, the city, with the fort of La Punta (historic, too) on its extreme point-the white, blue, and yellow-colored houses, with their red-tiled roofs, looking fresh and bright in this breezy January morning.

Still later, we are passing within easy stone-throw of the grimlooking Morro, from whose frowning battlements the sentry hails as we go swiftly by; there, to the left, the white walls on the abrupt hills of the Cabañas fortifications; to the right, again, the bay side-walls of the city, with the roofs of houses and towers of churches piled up in close proximity; and there, fresh and green, like an oasis in the desert of stone houses, the small but pretty Cortina de Valdes, looking so invitingly cool in the shade of its trees; some of the other Paseos in the outer portion of the city being marked out by the long, regular rows of green trees that stretch away until they are lost in the distant buildings.

How one's heart leaps at such a quaint, novel scene as this! Havana, around whose walls cluster so many memories of the once haughty Spanish Dons, whose foundation dates back nearly two cen

turies before our own noble country was settled; what visions of gold-laden ships, of wild, reckless, murderous freebooters, expedition> of gallant early adventurers and discoverers, and more lately the realization of numerous passages of Irving's and Prescott's glowing descriptions, come flooding upon one as he sees for the first time this apparently beautiful city!

Still swiftly gliding on up the bay, passing as we go the Spanish men-of-war and vessels of all nations sailing in and out, we see to great advantage this far-famed beautiful bay; a turn to the right, and we see the long line of covered wharves, with the shipping of the world lying side by side, waiting the completion of their cargoes; to the left, the white walls of still another fort—the Casa Blanca-that commands the city, and farther on in front of us we see the little town of Regla, with its immense warehouses of solid stone and corrugated iron for storing the sugar of the Island, as substantial and handsome in their structure as any the world can show. And now we are at anchor.

The custom-house officers come on board, and the steamer is surrounded by a perfect fleet of small boats, that are a cross between a market-wagon and a scow, from which rush a horde of hotel-runners, all expatiating upon the merits of their particular hotels, some of them in the most amusing broken English.

These boats, by-the-by, are afloat what the "volante" is ashore; and the traveler must needs use many of them if he wishes to see anything of the bay and surroundings of Havana. Small boats are not allowed to carry more than five passengers, or the large ones ten! "From ten and a half o'clock at night until the firing of the signal gun at daybreak in the morning, no boats will be allowed to pass in the bay." The traveler is, however, on all long trips, advised to make a bargain with the boatman, using care that he is not overcharged.

Having made up our mind before leaving the steamer as to which hotel we propose to patronize, we point out our baggage to the `runner of that hotel, who will take charge of it, and we shall have no further trouble about it, except to pass it at the custom-house on

landing. The runner has also a boat, into which we go, and have no trouble about fares, the which are settled for, and with the baggage charges will be found in his hotel bill "all right."

Now comes the fun. The passengers crowd into the little boats, a pile of baggage is stowed forward, the sail is set and away skims the little tub to the custom-house, each one trying to get there first. Arrived there, the voyager has his first experience of a Cosas de Cuba in the shape of a stalwart negro who takes a trunk, no matter how large, from the boat, places it on his head, and in the most nonchalant manner walks off with it to the examining office as though it were a trifle instead of a trunk on his brain, if he has any at all of that organ. The officers are very easy and polite in their examination of baggage, passing everything almost with a merely nominal examination, particularly if the keys are politely and readily produced.

Hacks and Hotels.

And now we are in Havana, and free to go where we like, notwithstanding those two military statues at the door, who look at us so fiercely as we go by. Outside the custom-house will be found hacks, which for twenty cents will carry the traveler where he wants to go.

But here we are at our hotel, and plenty of hotels there are to satisfy every taste and purse, though somewhat different from our great caravansaries. The ease and comforts (or lack of such, as we know them) of one of the hotels are most acceptable with their café con leche or chocolate at early morning, their eleven o'clock breakfast of luscious fruits and cool salads, and their abundant and pleasant dinners at five or six o'clock.

After dinner comes the delicious drive on the "Paseo," where magnificent equipages, lovely women, and well-dressed men, added to the beautiful surroundings of stately, graceful palms, and avenues of tropical trees, make up a scene that will vie with anything the world can show, the day ending, maybe, by a charming stroll in the magnificent grounds of "El Jardin Botanico," at the GovernorGeneral's, where, at no expense, and without let or hindrance, one can wander for hours at a time through a garden that in its luxuriant

magnificence of trees, fruits and flowers rivals anything the eye has ever seen in America.

Café solo o con leche ?" (coffee with or without milk) is about the first thing one hears of a morning in a Spanish hotel, as "Boots" puts his head in at the door to make the inquiry; and as, to make use of a common expression, "you pay your money and you have your choice," you will very quickly decide, if you want to get into Cuban ways, to have it thus early in the morning con leche. Our reasons for this are that in Cuba the custom is, on first rising, to take only a cup of coffee or chocolate, with a bit of dry toast or roll, which satisfies the appetite until the regular breakfast-hour of nine, ten, or eleven o'clock; and experience has taught that coffee with milk on an empty stomach is better than the coffee without (or cafe noir), which is best as a digestor after meals. Fruit, also, in the morning on rising is used, and is very palatable; but a little experience will show that the Cuban fashion of beginning the breakfast with fruit is best.

Excellent Restaurants.

Havana, city as it is of quite two hundred and fifty thousand inhabitants, with abundance of travel at certain seasons of the year, does not boast of one first-class hotel, as we understand the word, though there are several where the traveler, if he is not too particular, can be tolerably comfortable. There is no giving the reason for this—the fact is so, and though there are numbers of excellent restaurants kept by Spaniards and French, yet there are but few hotels kept by those people that are more than passable.

The city is large, there are constant arrivals of people from other portions of the Island, and in the winter season there are crowds of travelers from abroad; and yet, if you discuss the matter with a Cuban, he will only shrug his shoulders, and remark, "It won't pay."

But what more can be expected from a city that does not possess a chimney in its whole vast extent of private dwellings? Who ever heard even of a house without a chimney? They don't need them here, you say? Well, how do you account, then, for the absence of the other things ?-you can't say they don't need them.

T°

CHAPTER XXX.

Curious Sights in Havana.

see the curiosities of Havana and its neighborhood properly,

there is necessarily involved, in addition to a large expenditure of shoe-leather, much expenditure of reales and pesetas in cab hire. Although there are few passenger railways in Havana, yet from the abundance of all kinds of public vehicles it can not be said that they are missed much, since, if it is desired to go to any particular spot, all that is necessary is to wait in front of your hotel or at the corner of the street, and inside of three minutes you will have your choice of perhaps a dozen vehicles, that are constantly passing in every direction, and which, for twenty cents, will carry you to any part of the city.

These comprise various kinds and styles; but the one most in use to-day, and the latest novelty, is the "Victoria," a very comfortable four-wheeled affair, with seats for two, and in front a seat upon the box for the driver of the one horse required to draw it. All of these vehicles are the property of a few owners.

Such is the constant busy travel, that there is always a great demand for them, even at what would seem a high price, in comparison with what the caleseros (drivers) are allowed to charge the passengers; and yet the owners could rent out a greater number still, each driver, at that rate, making from two to four dollars per day.

"

Wherever you go in the city, you see a constant stream of these carriages going in every direction, without and with occupants; those that are not occupied have a little tin sign hanging over the box, Se alquila" (to hire). One of the owners of a line of these carriages had made over $100,000, and was desirous of selling out and going back to his belle France, whence he originally came. Although the popular name of the "volante" has made it familiar