Our Little Cuban Cousin
Mary Hazelton Blanchard Wade
Produced by Emmy, Beth Baran and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
Our Little Cuban Cousin
The Little Cousin Series
BY MARY HAZELTON WADE
_Ten volumes, illustrated_
_PREVIOUSLY ISSUED_
=Our Little Japanese Cousin= =Our Little Brown Cousin= =Our Little Indian Cousin= =Our Little Russian Cousin=
_NOW READY_
=Our Little Cuban Cousin= =Our Little Hawaiian Cousin= =Our Little Eskimo Cousin= =Our Little Philippine Cousin= =Our Little Porto Rican Cousin= =Our Little African Cousin=
Each volume illustrated with six full-page plates in tints, from drawings by L. J. Bridgman
Cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover, per volume, 50 cents net. (Postage, 6 cents additional)
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY, New England Building, Boston
MARIA]
Our Little Cuban Cousin
By Mary Hazelton Wade
_Illustrated by_ L. J. Bridgman
Boston L. C. Page & Company _MDCCCCII_
_Copyright, 1902_ By L. C. PAGE & COMPANY (INCORPORATED)
_All rights reserved_
Published, June, 1902
Colonial Press Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co. Boston, Mass., U. S. A.
Preface
LARGEST of all the fair West Indian Islands which lie in our opendoorway is Cuba. The great south doorway to the United States and allNorth America, you know, is the Gulf of Mexico.
But recently, as we all remember, we have had war and bloodshed at thisdoorway. The Spanish government, in trying to subdue its rebelliousprovince of Cuba, brought great hardship and suffering upon the Cubanpeople, our neighbours, and our government at last decided that suchthings must not be at our very doorway. So to-day Cuba is free, and thegreat trouble of war is over and past for her.
Yet, though war no longer troubles the Cuban people, they have manynew hardships and difficulties to contend with, and need the friendlyhelp of their more fortunate neighbours scarcely less than before.Now, in order that we may be able to help our friends and neighbours,the Cubans, we must know them better, and surely we shall all feel astronger interest than ever before in their welfare. So we shall beglad to meet and know our little Cuban neighbour, Maria.
We shall ask to have what Maria says translated for us, for most of usdo not understand the Spanish language, which Maria speaks. We mustremember, too, to pronounce her name as if it were spelled Mahreeah,for that is the way she and her family pronounce it. Our Cuban cousins,you know, like our cousins in Porto Rico, are descended from thedark-eyed, dark-haired Spanish people. Their forefathers came over seasfrom Spain to Cuba, as the English colonists came across the ocean toour country, which is now the United States.
Yet we must remember that the Spanish people and the English peopleare near akin in the great human family. They both belong to the whiterace; and so we shall call our black-eyed little neighbour our nearcousin. Welcome, then, to our little Cuban cousin!
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE I. DANGER 9 II. THE PICNIC 17 III. LEGENDS 29 IV. NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOURS 37 V. SUGAR 45 VI. THE QUARTERS 53 VII. HOME AGAIN 61 VIII. STARTLING NEWS 64 IX. FIRST YEARS IN THE NEW WORLD 72 X. THE MERRIMAC 81 XI. VICTORY 90 XII. HAVANA 97
List of Illustrations
PAGE MARIA _Frontispiece_ "'I COUNTED THREE DIFFERENT FORTS OF THE ENEMY'" 21 "THEY SAT BACK IN THE LOW, BROAD SEAT" 39 "THE MACHINES MADE A STEADY, GRINDING SOUND" 50 "'IT IS LIKE A BIG LIZARD'" 76 "THE AMERICAN FLAG WAS WAVING AND PEACE RULED IN THE LAND" 100
Our Little Cuban Cousin
CHAPTER I.
DANGER.
"MARIA! Maria! Maria!" was the low call from some unknown direction. Itsounded like a whisper, yet it must have travelled from a distance. Lowas it was, the little girl dozing in the hammock in the lemon grove wasawake in an instant. She sprang out and stood with hands shading hereyes, looking for the owner of the voice.
She well knew what it meant. Ramon was the only one who had agreed tocall in this way. It was a sign of danger! It meant, "The enemy arecoming. Look out and get ready." Shouldn't you think our little Cubancousin would have trembled and cried, or at least run for protection toher mother?
Maria was only nine years old. She was a perfect fairy of a child,with tiny hands and feet and soft black eyes. But she was used to warby this time. She never knew when she went to sleep at night but thather home would be burnt down by the cruel Spaniards before the end ofanother day.
Ramon got up before sunrise this morning. He had been away from homefor several hours. He had gone out in the country "to look around," ashe said. From his own front door the burning roofs of the houses of oldfriends not a mile distant could be seen the night before. The Spanishtroops must be near. Who could say but that the boy's own home wouldsuffer next?
He was tall and active, and he longed very much to help his people.They had suffered much from their Spanish rulers and now they wereworking hard for freedom. But Ramon's father had been ill for a longtime. He was growing weaker every day. The boy's mother looked very sadat times. Her eyes filled with tears when she said:
"My dear boy, you must not leave us now. Your duty lies at home. Youmust be your father's right hand and protect your little sisters andmyself."
The Diaz children lived in a cosy little home in the country. Itwas only a few miles from Havana. Their father had a small sugarplantation. He had been able to raise enough sugar to buy everythingthe family needed until lately. But now times were very hard. It wasnot easy to sell the sugar; besides this, the good man and his familywere in constant danger.
What had they done? you ask. Nothing. They did not love their Spanishrulers, to be sure, and they believed their countrymen were fightingjustly to free their beautiful island home. They would help thesecountrymen, or insurgents, as they were called, if they had a chance.
But Maria's father had never, himself, fought against the Spaniards. Hewas a quiet, kindly gentleman, and he had no love for war. What did theSpaniards care for that? They might say to themselves:
"This man has a pleasant home. He raises sugar. He may give food andshelter to those daring Cuban soldiers. Then they can keep up theirstrength and be able to keep up the fight against us all the longer."
So far Maria's home had been spared. Although many other houses nearher had been burned, hers stood safe and unharmed yet. But "To-morrowis another day," the child often repeated to herself, after the mannerof her people. That meant, "Although I am safe now, no one knows whatwill come next." Then Maria would sigh for a moment and look sad. Butshe was naturally merry and gay, and the next moment would be dancingabout and humming a lively tune.
What news was her brave brother bringing this morning? As soon as hecame in sight, Maria ran to meet him. The sun was very hot and thelittle girl's head was bare, but she did not think of these things. TheSpaniards! The Spaniards! made the only picture she could see.
As soon as she was within easy call, Ramon told her that a company ofthe enemy was only two miles away. He had been very close to them. Hehad even heard them talking together while he hid in the bushes.
"Just think, Maria," he exclaimed, "the
y were laughing at the easy timethey would have in breaking our spirit. They said that before longthey would starve us into giving up. I rather think they won't. Do youknow, Maria, I believe God will send us help if we are only patient.The Americans live so near us, I don't see how they can help taking ourpart, when they know the way we are treated. But come, we must hurryand tell father the news. He will know what we ought to do to get readyfor a visit to-day."
The children hurried to the house, and soon every one was in a stateof the greatest excitement. When Senor Diaz was told of the approachof the Spaniards, he said, in his gentle voice, "We would best have apicnic."
The children looked greatly astonished at the idea of a picnic at sucha time, but their father went on to explain. He had often thought ofthe coming of the Spanish troops. He had made a plan in case he shouldhear of their approach. The house should be locked up; all the familyshould go down to the shore of a small lake a quarter of a mile backin the woods. The path that led to this lake was so hidden that astranger would not know it was there. Ramon could lead the oxen; thefather thought that he was strong enough to guide the horse to thepicnic-ground.
If the Spaniards found no one about the house, and no animals worthcapturing, they might possibly pass by without doing any harm.
Senora Diaz and old black Paulina got a hasty luncheon ready. Mariasaid she must certainly take her sewing materials, for she was going toembroider some insurgent emblems. Her little sister, Isabella, carriedher pet kitten in her arms, and cried because the parrot must be leftbehind.
"He'll be so lonesome," she said; "and I just know he'll call'Isabella' all day long."
The dear little girl cried hard, but everybody's hands were so fullthat Mr. Poll was left in the house. A big linen cloth was stretchedover the cage. If kept in the dark, he would probably be still, and notattract the attention of the soldiers, if they stopped and looked in.The black man servant, Miguel, stayed behind to shut up the chickens inbarrels, but would follow the rest of the party in a few moments.
The path led in and out through the beautiful southern woods. Therewere cocoanut-palms and ebony and mahogany trees, while underneath werecreeping vines and bushes, making a close thicket of underbrush. Therewas no talking. The family crept along as quietly as possible, lestthey should be heard and followed. For by this time the enemy must bevery near.
CHAPTER II.
THE PICNIC.
IN a few minutes the lake was in sight. It was a very pretty sheet ofwater. A tiny boat rocked to and fro close to the shore, for Ramon andMaria often came here to row about the quiet lake.
Ramon soon had two hammocks swinging between the trees for his fatherand mother. The lunch was spread out on the ground, as it was alreadypast the time for the noonday meal.
"What did they have to eat?" you ask. There were some delicate whiterolls, that Paulina knew how to make so nicely. There was guava jellyto eat on the rolls; fresh lemons and newly made sugar from which tomake a refreshing drink. Besides these, there was plenty of cold friedchicken. Could any children have a nicer picnic lunch than this, evenif a long time had been spent in getting ready for it?
The guava jelly looked just as clear and beautiful as that which isbrought to America, and sold here at such a high price. Did you eversee it in the stores of Boston or New York, and think how nice it musttaste? Perhaps your mother has bought it for you when you were gettingwell after a long illness, and wished to tempt your appetite by somenew dainty. Maria has several guava-trees near her home. Paulina makesso much jelly from the ripe fruit that perhaps the little girl does notrealise how nice it is.
After the lunch, Senor Diaz stretched himself in one of the hammocksfor a quiet rest. He was very tired after his walk through the woods.He was also troubled over the sad state of things in his country, andwas worried that he was not strong enough to take a more active partagainst the enemy. His wife lay down in the other hammock for a noondaynap, after which she promised to help Maria in her sewing.
Paulina gathered the remains of the lunch and put things in order,while the three children rowed around the lake.
"Won't you hear me read out of my primer, Maria?" said Isabella."Ramon, dear, give your oars a rest, and float for a little while. Youcan listen, too, and I know you'll like my lesson to-day."
The little girl was just learning to read, and she had a book printedby the insurgents. No one had to urge her to study, for even her ownlittle primer was made up of stories about the war. She had tucked herloved book in the loose waist of her dress when she left the house. Noone had noticed it before.
"'I COUNTED THREE DIFFERENT FORTS OF THE ENEMY'"]
"Why, yes, my darling sister, certainly I will listen, and help youwith the big words, too," answered Maria, while Ramon drew in his oars,and lay back in the boat with a pleasant smile. Of course the wordswere all Spanish, because that was the only language the children hadever learned. Isabella read:
"My papa is in the army of the Cubans. He fights to make us free. Doyou hear the cannon roar? Our men will bring victory. Long live Cuba!"
When Isabella came to the word "victory," Maria had to help her. It wassuch a big word for the six-year-old child to pronounce. She looked atit again and again, repeating it slowly to herself. Then she said:
"I'll never fail on that word again, Maria, no matter where it is. HowI would like to see it in great big letters on a silk banner! I'd waveit all day long."
This was a good deal for such a little girl to say, but then, youknow, she was living in the midst of war.
"Good for you," said her brother; "we'll all live yet to see the wordsof your primer come true. Long live free Cuba! I say. But come, let'sgo on shore, and play war. You and Maria can be the Spaniards, andI'll be the insurgent army. You just see how I will make short work oftaking you prisoners."
The children landed under a big cotton-tree. They made a fort out ofdead branches which they gathered. This fort was to belong to theSpanish troops. The two girls placed themselves behind it, and stoodready to defend themselves. It was not many minutes before Ramon tookthem by surprise, and dragged them to the boat, which stood for theCuban headquarters.
"Do you know," said the boy, when they stopped to rest a few minutesfrom their sport, "I counted three different forts of the enemy duringmy tramp this morning. The cowardly Spaniards don't dare to march veryfar away from those forts. They really don't give our men a chance tohave a good fair battle. They think by having plenty of forts they cankeep our soldiers from getting into the cities. Then they will scarethe rest of us who live in the country from feeding them. In that waywe will be starved into giving in. We'll see, that's all."
By this time Maria could see that her mother had waked up and left thehammock.
"She will be ready to help me with my work now," said Maria. "Don't youwant to come and watch me embroider, Isabella?"
The two girls were soon sitting beside their mother, while Ramon wentwith Miguel on a hunt for birds. The insurgent emblems which Maria wasso eager to make were to be given to the Cuban soldiers. They were towear beneath their coats. Suppose that an insurgent should stop at anyplace, and ask for food and rest; how would the people know that hewas true to his country, and not a friend of the Spaniards? He couldshow his little piece of flannel with the watchword of the Cubansembroidered upon it. That was the only thing needed. The people wouldbe safe now in giving him help.
Maria did her work very nicely. She made a scalloped edge with red silkall around the white cloth. A crimson heart on a green cross must thenbe made, with underneath these words:
"Be of good cheer. The heart of Jesus is with me."
Two hours went by before Ramon came back. Miguel and he were bringinga large net full of birds. Of course, they had done no shooting. Thatwould not have been wise when Spanish soldiers might be near to hearthe noise. No, they had searched through the woods till they foundsome sour orange trees. The fruit was ripe now and there were sure tobe numbers of parrots around. They could be caught in the net
thatMiguel had brought from the house that morning. They had to creep alongvery quietly so as to take the birds by surprise.
They had great success, it seemed; but what would the family do witha dozen dead parrots? Eat them, to be sure. Paulina would make a finestew for dinner that very night. That is, of course, if they werefortunate enough to find the house still standing when they reachedhome. The flesh of this bird is tough, and one wonders that Ramon andMaria are so fond of parrot stew. In Cuba there are many nicer birdsfor eating. But each one has his own tastes. No two people are alike,we have found out long ago.
"I discovered something in the woods that I want to show you girls,"said Ramon. "It's only a little ways off. Won't you come, too, mamma?It's the dearest little nest I ever saw in my life. It must belong to ahumming-bird."
Ramon's mother and the children followed him till the boy stopped infront of a low bush. Hidden away under the leaves was the tiny nest.It was no bigger than a large thimble. It was made of cotton, boundtogether with two or three horse-hairs.
"I'm sure I couldn't have sewed it as well as that," said Maria. "Seehow the threads are woven in and out. It's wonderful what birds cando. But look at the eggs, mamma dear. See! there are two of them. Theyaren't any bigger than peas."
Just then the children heard a fluttering of tiny wings. It was Mrs.Humming-Bird who had come home. She was troubled at the sight of thestrangers.
"Did you ever before see such a small bird?" whispered Isabella."She looks like a butterfly, and a small one, too. Aren't her coloursbeautiful?"
