Francisco
Our Little Argentine Cousin
THE
Little Cousin Series
(TRADE MARK)
Each volume illustrated with six or more full-page plates in
tint. Cloth, 12mo, with decorative cover,
per volume, 60 cents
LIST OF TITLES
BY MARY HAZELTON WADE
(unless otherwise indicated)
=Our Little African Cousin=
=Our Little Alaskan Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Arabian Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Armenian Cousin=
=Our Little Australian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Brazilian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=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 Egyptian 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 Greek Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Hawaiian Cousin=
=Our Little Hindu Cousin=
By Blanche McManus
=Our Little Hungarian Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=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 Persian Cousin=
By E. C. Shedd
=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 Spanish Cousin=
By Mary F. Nixon-Roulet
=Our Little Swedish Cousin=
By Claire M. Coburn
=Our Little Swiss Cousin=
=Our Little Turkish Cousin=
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
New England Building, Boston, Mass.
[Illustration: "THEY SAT DOWN ALMOST UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE HIGH STATUE
OF SAN MARTÍN."
(_See page 33._)]
FRANCISCO
Our Little Argentine Cousin
By Eva Cannon Brooks
_Illustrated by_ John Goss
[Illustration]
Boston
L. C. Page & Company
_MDCCCCX_
_Copyright, 1910_
BY L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
(INCORPORATED)
_All rights reserved_
First Impression, June, 1910
TO
Katharine and Elizabeth Brooks
Preface
IF you take a steamer in New York whose destination is the eastern coast
of South America, and remain on it a little over four weeks, you will
reach the great metropolis of our twin continent, Buenos Aires.
In all probability they will be weeks of infinite content and delight,
for the southern half of the Atlantic Ocean is milder in her moods than
the northern half, and there will be a sufficient number of stops _en
route_ to relieve the journey of monotony.
First comes the Barbadoes, then Pernambuco, Bahia, Rio-de-Janeiro, and
Santos in Brazil, and then Montevideo, the capital of the Republic of
Uruguay.
At Montevideo the steamer leaves the ocean and enters the mouth of the
River Plata, which is several hundred miles wide at this point, and in
ten hours the beautiful city of Buenos Aires, the gate-way to the
Pampas, is spread out before the eye.
It is more like a city of North America than any of the South American
metropolises, both in its appearance and its remarkable spirit of
modernization.
Beyond, and about this attractive port, lie great tracts of level
country known as the _campo_, and here you will find conditions not
unlike those existing in some parts of our own western territory. Large
ranches predominate, although the industries are varied.
The people are of mixed nationalities, but the greater proportion is of
Spanish extraction and a new race, or type, is being welded with a
sufficient infusion of Anglo-Saxon blood to counteract the inherent
tendency of all Latin races towards procrastination. Because of this,
and aided by an unequalled climate, a fertile soil, and definite aims,
they are already achieving a part of their manifest destiny.
This, the year of 1910, the publication date of this small volume, marks
the one hundredth anniversary of Argentina's independence; may it mark
also the beginning of an era of even greater harmony and more splendid
achievement.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
PREFACE v
I. FRANCISCO'S HOME 1
II. A WONDERFUL DAY 15
III. A LESSON IN HISTORY 29
IV. CURIOUS SIGHTS 47
V. GREAT SURPRISES 60
VI. NEW EXPERIENCES 75
VII. ON THE RANCH 92
VIII. CATTLE BRANDING 104
IX. A SUCCESSFUL SEARCH 122
X. THE CARNIVAL 142
List of Illustrations
PAGE
"THEY SAT DOWN ALMOST UNDER THE SHADOW OF THE HIGH
STATUE OF SAN MARTÍN" (see page 33) _Frontispiece_
"HE PERMITTED FRANCISCO TO TAKE A RIDE ON THE TAME
LLAMA" 24
"'DID YOU EVER SEE SUCH GLORIOUS BLUE EYES!'" 67
"SOON AFTER HIS EAGER QUESTION THEY PASSED A GROUP
OF THEM" 100
"BLAZED THE LINES OF THE TRES ARROYAS ON ITS HIP" 106
"ELENA AND FRANCISCO WERE DRESSED AND READY" 147
Francisco
Our Little Argentine Cousin
CHAPTER I
FRANCISCO'S HOME
FRANCISCO sat crosslegged in one corner of the _patio_ under the shade
of a small pomegranate tree which grew in a tub. He had moved halfway
around the _patio_ since morning, trying to keep out of the sun. Just
after _café_ he had started out under the shade of the east wall, where
wistaria vines and jasmine grew in a dense mass of purple, yellow and
green; then he had gone from one tubbed shelter to another as the sun
mounted higher, until now only the heavy foliage of the pomegranate
offered protection from the hot rays. All of the long varnished blinds
at the doors of the rooms opening upon this central, stone-paved
courtyard, had long since been closed securely, for it was middle
December and the house must be sealed early against the noon heat of
midsummer.
Francisco might have gone inside, where the darkened rooms furnished
some relief, but he chose to sit crosslegged on the red and white
square stones of the _patio_, with his back to the main part of the
house, so that the mother and sisters could not see what occupied his
busy hands.
Francisco's father was dead, and he, with his mother, La Señora Anita
Maria Lacevera de Gonzalez, and his two sisters, Elena Maria, who was
six, and Guillerma Maria, who was eighteen and very beautiful, lived in
the Calle[1] Cerrito, in the city of Buenos Aires, Argentine Republic,
South America.
Francisco, himself, was nine, and his uncle who was a colonel in the
army and who supported his widowed sister and her family, expected him
to be a soldier also. His great-grandfather had been a general, and
because of his services during the revolution that had brought
Argentina her liberty nearly one hundred years ago, his family was one
of the most distinguished in the Republic. Francisco's own grandfather
had given his life for his _patria_ during the ten years' blockade of
Buenos Aires, when the French and English forces combined to overcome
General Rosas, who then commanded the city. His mother and his uncle,
the Colonel Juan Carlos Lacevera, were then little children, but they
were fired with a patriotism that comes only to those who have given of
their own flesh and blood for native land.
"El Coronel Lacevera" was now retired, and with his wife and six
daughters lived in a spacious, palatial home in the Calle San Martin
facing the beautiful plaza, or park, where the statue of General San
Martin on his rearing charger stands, a constant reminder to the
hundreds of little Argentine boys and girls who daily play in the
pebbled space around it, of the wonderful man, who, like George
Washington, was first in war, first in peace, and is still first in the
hearts of his countrymen.
The monthly allowance bestowed by Colonel Lacevera upon his sister was
enough to keep them in comfort, but not sufficient to allow them to live
in luxury, and to-day, because Francisco had not enough money to buy his
Christmas _pesebre_ at the toyshop, he was doing what many little boys
of that country do,--he was making his own.
Now, you must know right here, that Christmas in these South American
countries is not the greatest festival of the entire year, as it is with
us; it is simply one of the many that are celebrated at frequent
intervals, for Argentina is a land of _fiestas_; there is scarcely a
month that does not allow three or four holidays from school because of
some _fiesta_, either of church or state. Although they do not celebrate
this great holiday as we do with Christmas trees and visits from Santa
Claus, they have something in their places, and it is the "Coming of
the Three Kings." In anticipation of this, all over the Republic,
children erect _pesebres_ or mangers.
A _pesebre_ consists of a miniature open shed, or merely a roof of straw
or bark, underneath which, in a tiny box, lies a porcelain baby doll to
represent the infant Christ. Bending in adoration at the head of the wee
box that holds this image kneels the mother, Mary, and at the foot, with
folded hands, stands Joseph, the father. About them, placed in sand or
moss, that forms the floor of the stable or yard, are figures to
represent the worshipful neighbours, also the farm-yard fowls and
animals; cows and donkeys predominating. They look like Noah's Ark
people, stiff-legged and prim. Now all of this remains unmoved, a spot
of reverent adoration, throughout Christmas week, New Year's day, and
until "twelfth night," or the fifth of January. It is awaiting the great
event for which it was erected, the "Coming of the Three Kings."
On that auspicious night, through the same magical means that aid Santa
Claus to enter the homes of North American children while their eyes are
closed in sleep, come the three richly decorated and delicately carved
kings on miniature camels with costly trappings and bags of spices on
their little brown backs.
On the morning of the sixth of January the children awake, all eagerness
to see the arrivals of the night. Rushing to the _pesebre_ they find the
three little wooden kings kneeling beside the manger, the faithful
camels standing in the grass without, and all about on the floor are the
wonderful gifts that the kings have brought to their _pesebre_. Indeed,
as you can see, it was erected for just this purpose, exactly as the fir
tree with its glittering ornaments forms the nucleus in other lands for
Christmas gifts.
It was these wooden people and animals that Francisco's small fingers
were fashioning. He had cut himself several times, and one finger was
bound up in an old handkerchief, but his enthusiasm was not lessened
because of it. He knew exactly how they should be carved, and how many
there should be, for in the toyshop windows there had been sets of them
on display for weeks, and Francisco had studied each necessary bit
carefully.
In a box beside him were the finished product of his penknife. Joseph
and Mary were completed even to the paint; Mary's red and blue gown and
Joseph's yellow robe were not quite dry, and the cows were too vividly
red, but that would not matter; Elena was no severe critic, and it was
mainly for her that he was carving them. Elena had been ill and this was
to be her "getting well" gift. The flashing light in her great brown
eyes when she should see them would be sufficient reward for cut fingers
and weary back. Besides, this was the summer vacation and there was
nothing else to do.
In all countries on the other side of the Equator the seasons are the
reverse of those on this side. In Argentina the children are having
their summer holidays in December, January, and February, when the
children of the Northern hemisphere are busy in school, or skating and
sleighing; and they are having their winter when the Northern children
are dressed in their thinnest clothing and are going away to the
seashore or mountains.
Francisco had just completed a wonderful set of bent pin horns for one
of the red cows when he was called to breakfast, and it was _half-past
eleven_. But you see their meal hours, like their seasons, are different
from ours. At eight o'clock he had had his _cafe con leche_, or coffee
with hot milk, and a roll; at half-past eleven he was accustomed to
having his breakfast; at four he would have _máte_ or tea; and at seven
dinner would be served.
Francisco gathered his treasures into the tin box, and hurried to the
bath-room to make himself ready for _almuerzo_. When he entered the
dining-room his mother and Guillerma, the elder sister, were seated, and
the little Indian serving-maid was arranging a tray to carry to Elena in
the bed-room.
The meal consisted of beef broth and rice, called _caldo_ and the usual
beginning to every hearty meal in that country; then came fried fish
with garlic, followed by a stew of mutton, carrots, cabbage, potatoes,
and large pieces of yellow pumpkin, this being the native dish of the
Argentines and commonly known as _puchero_. After that came fruit and
coffee.
Guillerma chatted continuously of the wonderful new gowns which she had
seen being packed at the great house in Calle San Martin, where she had
been the day before, to bid her aunt and six cousins good-bye, before
their departure for Mar-de-la-Plata, the fashionable watering place on
the Atlantic Ocean, a day's ride by rail from Buenos Aires.
Meanwhile, as they sat thus, eating and talking, over in the great house
of the _Coronel_[2] the master sat at his massive library table playing
solitaire. He always ended his meals thus with his after-dinner
coffee-cup beside him. The walls were lined with well-filled bookcases,
for the Colonel was a scholar.
Indeed, he cared little for the gay life that ebbed and flowed about him
because of his high social position, and because of the six comely
daughters, ranging from fourteen to twenty-four; the eldest ones of whom
were favourites in exclusive Buenos Aires society. He suffered it
because of his love for them, but his natural fondness for quiet and
study led him to think longingly of the large estate in the Province of
Santa Fé, where he could spend the remaining years of his life in the
free open air, enjoying the quiet and solitude he so loved. But the
daughters must be educated and their mother did not like the country, so
the Colonel was forced to live through the winter months in the noise
and roar of the great city; contenting himself with a few months each
summer at the estate, when he rode at will over the wide prairies on his
swift Argentine horse, or read for hours under the shade of the wide
spreading _ombú_ trees which surrounded the country house. This
_estáncia_, as they term a very large farm or ranch, was really his
wife's; in fact, so was the city house, for no retired colonel's pay,
nor general's pay, for that matter, could have met the expenses of his
large family, accustomed to every luxury; indeed, it was just enough to
cover his own personal expenses, and provide a living for his widowed
sister, who had been left penniless, but dared not earn her own living,
since the custom of the country forbids women of class to do work of any
kind.
His matronly wife with her six daughters (large families are the rule
among these Latin Americans) had left the evening before, with several
French maids, for Mar-de-la-Plata to spend the entire summer; he would
be detained in the city for two weeks, and then--for freedom and the
life he loved.
But he was strangely lonely; the house echoed his and the servants'
footfalls with an intensity that made him nervous; the pillared
corridors rang with no merry girlish laughter, and the luxuriantly
furnished _patio_ with its marble floors, and softly pattering
fountains, seemed to mock him of his loneliness. Always before, he had
left for the _estáncia_ before his family had gone to Europe or the
seashore for their summer outing, and he never would have believed that
he--an old soldier--could be so overcome by sentiment.
He was minded to take up his abode for the next two weeks, previous to
his leaving for the country, in his widowed sister's humble home, when
the splendid thought came to him;--he would bring Francisco, his nephew,
there with him to the lonely house.
For some time he had been drawn towards the little fellow, partly
because his heart was desolate that he had no son of his own, partly
because the boy was developing so many manly traits, and reminded him
frequently, when he turned his round brown eyes towards him, of his own
long since fallen soldier father.
He desired to know him better, to get closer to the lad--and now this
was his opportunity; he would ask Anita to let him have Francisco for
the summer, and the boy would keep the empty house lively for the few
days until they should both leave for his Tres Arroyas ranch. He clapped
his hands sharply, and a servant appeared.
"Have Enrique bring the motor car at four, when the afternoon is
cooler," he ordered, and turned to his bed-room for the _siesta_, or
rest, that all tropical and semitropical climates demand of their
residents.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: Street.]
[Footnote 2: Colonel.]