In the ditch near by little children paddle about.
Their voices are soft and pleasant, and their play merry and
good-natured. We hear no quarreling.
Now their mother calls them to bring in some sticks for the fire. When
these are added to the flame, the firelight shines out in the darkness
and guides the father on his homeward way.
He has been working on the coffee plantation near, and is now climbing
the narrow, winding path up the hill with his load of plantains. Perhaps
the wife will cook some for supper.
The children satisfy their hunger, and then creep into their corner or
hammock and are soon fast asleep.
Out in the darkness we hear the tinkle of a homemade guitar. Now
another, and then another, takes up the Spanish or Indian air. Perhaps
the beater of a drum is added to the little band of musicians which has
gathered in an open space near the small village.
The natives compose much of their own music, and wild, strange melody it
is. It seems to inspire one with a wish to dance. The Puerto Ricans are
very fond of this amusement, and when they hear the music of the band,
they gather around for a frolic.
Once a week, at least, they gather for a dance; and this, with their
cock-fighting and gambling, is almost their only form of amusement.
Few of these people can write or read. They have no books and can not
afford to buy even a newspaper.
The life of the peasant in Puerto Rico, you see, is not an easy or
pleasant one; but he does not suffer from cold or hunger, as do the poor
in northern countries.
* * * * *
GLIMPSES OF OTHER CITIES.
We have now a very good idea of San Juan and of rural life in districts
near it.
So let us travel about the island a bit, for glimpses of other parts of
the country, and of the other important cities.
The most comfortable way to do this would be to make the voyage around
the island on board the ship, going ashore for sight-seeing when the
ship makes port for freight.
But this would give us no opportunity to see the interior of the island;
so we make up our minds to endure poor roads in order to enjoy the mild
adventures that fall to our lot (as all good travelers should do).
We decide to celebrate the seventeenth of November, the anniversary of
the discovery of the island, at the place where the ship of Columbus
first touched land over four hundred years ago.
We find no Pullman cars on the railroad which leaves San Juan for
Aguadilla; but the novelty of the ride takes the place of the luxuries
to which we are accustomed at home.
