Our Little Porto Rican Cousin
The Little Cousin Series
[Illustration]
Each volume illustrated with six or more full-page plates
in tint. Cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover,
per volume, 60 cents.
[Illustration]
=LIST OF TITLES=
BY MARY HAZELTON WADE (unless otherwise indicated).
=Our Little African Cousin=
=Our Little Armenian Cousin=
=Our Little Brown Cousin=
=Our Little Canadian Cousin=
By Elizabeth R. Macdonald
=Our Little Chinese Cousin=
By Isaac Taylor Headland
=Our Little Cuban Cousin=
=Our Little Dutch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little English Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Eskimo Cousin=
=Our Little French Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little German Cousin=
=Our Little Hawaiian Cousin=
=Our Little Indian Cousin=
=Our Little Irish Cousin=
=Our Little Italian Cousin=
=Our Little Japanese Cousin=
=Our Little Jewish Cousin=
=Our Little Korean Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Mexican Cousin=
By Edward C. Butler
=Our Little Norwegian Cousin=
=Our Little Panama Cousin=
By H. Lee M. Pike
=Our Little Philippine Cousin=
=Our Little Porto Rican Cousin=
=Our Little Russian Cousin=
=Our Little Scotch Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Siamese Cousin=
=Our Little Swiss Cousin=
=Our Little Turkish Cousin=
(_In Preparation_)
=Our Little Spanish Cousin=
=Our Little Swedish Cousin=
[Illustration]
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
New England Building, Boston, Mass.
[Illustration: MANUEL]
Our Little Porto Rican Cousin
By
Mary Hazelton Wade
_Illustrated by_
L. J. Bridgman
[Illustration]
Boston
L. C. Page & Company
Publishers
_Copyright, 1902_
BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
_All rights reserved_
Published, June, 1902
Fifth Impression, March, 1906
Colonial Press
Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
Boston, Mass., U. S. A.
Preface
THE beautiful island of Porto Rico lies, as you will see by looking at
the map, near that great open doorway to North America and the United
States which we call the Gulf of Mexico. Very near it looks, does it
not?
So the little cousin with whom we are going to become acquainted to-day
is our near neighbour as well. To be sure, a schoolboy or girl from
Massachusetts would have to travel a thousand miles or so to see his
Porto Rican cousin; and even a child from Florida could not say good
morning to his Porto Rican neighbour unless he were to take a sail of
several hundred miles.
However, we, who are used to taking little excursions over the world
(between the covers of a book), so that we may learn to know our tiny
Eskimo cousins who live near the icy pole, and our little African
cousins south of the equator, as well as our Japanese cousins on the
other side of the globe, think nothing of the distance between here
and Porto Rico. We should expect to feel very much at home after we
arrived there, especially now that Porto Rico has become part of our
own country.
We shall find our Porto Rican cousins and neighbours, with their
dark skins, black hair, and soft black eyes, somewhat different in
appearance, indeed, from ourselves; and we shall not be able to
understand what they say unless we have learned the Spanish language;
for, as we know, the parents or forefathers of our Porto Rican cousins
came from Spain to Porto Rico, just as the parents and forefathers of
most of us who speak English came from England.
However, these are slight differences; and the Spanish people, from
whom our black-eyed Porto Rican cousin is descended, belong to the
same branch of the great human family as we do, who are descended,
most of us, from English people. That is, the Spanish people and their
descendants, the Porto Ricans, belong to the white race. Manuel is thus
a nearer relative than the little black cousin, who belongs to the
negro race; or the little Japanese cousin, who belongs to the yellow
or Mongolian race; or the little Indian cousin, who belongs to the red
race; or the little Malayan cousin, who belongs to the brown race. So
we shall welcome the Porto Rican neighbours near our doorway into our
nation's family. They were already our cousins by descent; they have
become our adopted brothers in our nation.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. MANUEL 9
II. DOLORES 15
III. LESSONS 21
IV. THROUGH THE WOODS 28
V. THE COFFEE-TREE 35
VI. SONGS AND STORIES 40
VII. A CRUEL SPORT 50
VIII. EARLY TIMES 56
IX. THE CARIBS 63
X. A SEASIDE PICNIC 68
XI. THE WONDERFUL CAVE 78
XII. THE HURRICANE 87
XIII. THE NEW BABY 93
XIV. THE CITY 98
List of Illustrations
PAGE
MANUEL _Frontispiece_
"A FOUNTAIN IS PLAYING IN THE CENTRE OF THE PAVED YARD" 12
DOLORES 17
"THE HOMES OF THE WORKMEN" 40
"ONE IS QUITE LARGE, AND IS FORMED IN THE SHAPE OF A FAN" 73
A STREET IN SAN JUAN 101
Our Little Porto Rican Cousin
CHAPTER I.
MANUEL.
IT is a beautiful May day. The air is still, yet clear; the sun is
shining brightly, but it is not too warm for comfort. There is not a
cloud in the sky.
And yet lazy little Manuel lies curled up in his comfortable bed, sound
asleep at eight o'clock in the morning. See! A smile lights up his
face. Perhaps he is dreaming of his newly adopted American brothers.
Of the things he has read about, he longs to see a real New England
snow-storm most of all. To built a snow fort, to make balls of
snow and have a mock battle, what fun it must be! To slide down
the icy hills, to ride over the snowy roads to the jingle of the
sleigh-bells,--surely there is nothing in his island home to equal
sport like that. And so in his dreams our little Manuel takes part in
games he cannot play while awake, until they at last become quite real
to him.
But now the door opens, and old black Juana, Manuel's nurse ever since
he was born, comes softly into the dark room, bringing a tray in her
hand. She steps toward a little stand beside the bed, and sets down the
tray. Then she goes to the casement and opens wide the wooden shutter.
The sunlight pours into the room, and Manuel slowly opens his big black
eyes.
"Oh, it is you, mammy dear, is it?" he says, sleepily, and slowly
stretches himself and sits up in bed.
Juana brings a basin of fresh water and a towel for the boy to bathe
his hands and face, then draws the stand closer to his side and hands
him a cup of steaming chocolate and a roll. What thick, rich chocolate
it is, and what a dainty little roll! This is all the boy ever cares
to eat in the morning, for he is seldom hungry when first roused. His
father and mother are having coffee in their own bedroom at the same
time Manuel is drinking his chocolate. This is the way every one in the
family takes the first meal of the day.
Manuel is a creole. Many, many years ago his great-great-great (indeed
I cannot tell you how many times great) grandfather left Spain and
crossed the wide Atlantic Ocean. He came to this beautiful island of
Porto Rico to live, and his children and grandchildren liked the place
so well they never cared to go back to the mother country. Such people
are called creoles; that is, people born in the West Indies of European
parents. They set out great plantations of tobacco and sugar and
became very rich.
[Illustration: "A FOUNTAIN IS PLAYING IN THE CENTRE OF THE PAVED YARD"]
Manuel's father has many acres of their land still, but the fortune of
the family has been slowly lost; and, although there are many servants,
and a large, comfortable home, there is not much money to spend.
The house is at least a hundred years old. It is made of blocks of
stone, built around the four sides of a square courtyard, where
orange-trees and magnolias stand in immense pots. A fountain is playing
in the centre of the paved yard and making soft music as the spray
falls upon the stones. There is a large aquarium at one side, where
Manuel's mother cares for many beautiful fishes.
Vines climb up over the wide verandas; the stone work is nearly hidden
by mosses which have made their home here; and, over all, the tall,
graceful trees of the tropics sway gently to and fro.
There are water-lemon and banana, cocoanut and tamarind trees growing
close to the house, and underneath in the rose-bushes and acacias
hundreds of brilliant humming-birds are glancing in and out.
At first thought, it may seem strange to us that there are no windows
fitted with glass in this old mansion. Our window is an opening in the
wall of a building to let in or keep out light and air, as needed. In
Porto Rico, where it is summer all the time, people need to have all
the air possible in the house; they have no use for panes of glass such
as we use. These are rarely seen anywhere in the island, but instead
of them bars of iron are fastened across the casements, or else there
are wooden shutters, as in Manuel's home. The slats of these shutters
can be set open as much as one likes, or closed tightly when the heavy
rains come.
When Manuel has finished drinking his chocolate, old Juana prepares a
bath for him. She does not bring any soap, for his mother believes it
spoils the skin; but the bath is scented with Florida-water, and the
sweet perfume fills the room.
Manuel is soon dressed, for he wears only a little shirt and loose
white trousers during the daytime at home. His feet are left bare, so
he may be as cool as possible.
What a handsome fellow he is now that he is wide awake! He is a
little smaller than his American brothers of his own age, but he is
well-shaped and graceful. People say he looks very much like his
beautiful mother. His black eyes are tender and loving, his hair is
black, but fine and soft; his skin is dark, yet clear; and his teeth
are even and white. Yes, he is not only good-looking, but kind and
lovable, we feel sure.