ct. So I have quit talking of
the heroism of our army in Cuba, because it makes everybody laugh and
they speak of Shaffer and Roosevelt, and hunch up their shoulders, and
say, "bah," but when you talk about the navy, and Schley, and Sampson,
and Clark, and Bob Evans, they take off their hats and their faces are
full of admiration, and they say, "magnificent," and ask you to take a
drink. Gee, but dad got his foot in it by talking about the blowing up
of the Maine, and looking saucy, as though he was going to get even with
the Spaniards, but he found that every Spaniard was as sorry for that
accident as we were, and they would take off their hats when the Maine
was mentioned, and look pained and heart-sick. I tell you the Spaniards
are about as good people as you will find anywhere, and dad has
concluded to fall back on Christopher Columbus for a steady diet
of talk, cause if it had not been for Chris we wouldn't have been
discovered to this day, which might have been a darn good thing for us.
But the people here do not recall the fact that there ever was a man
named Christopher Columbus, and they don't know what he ever discovered,
or where the country is that he sailed away to find, unless they are
educated, and familiar with ancient history, and only once in a while
will you find anybody that is educated. The children of America know
more about the history of Spain than the Spanish children. This country
reminds you of a play on the stage, the grandees in their picturesque
costumes, though few in number, compared to the population, are the
whole thing, and the people you see on the stage with the grandees, in
peasant costume, peddling oranges and figs, you find here in the life
of Spain, looking up to the grandees as though they were gods. Every
peasant carries a knife in some place, concealed about him, and no two
carry their toad stabbers in the same place. If you see a man reach his
finger under his collar to scratch his neck, the chances are his fingers
touch the handle of his dagger, and if he hitches up his pants, his
dagger is there, and if he pulls up his trousers leg to scratch for a
flea, you can bet your life his knife is right handy, and if you have
any trouble you don't know where the knife is coming from, as you do
about an American revolver, when one of our citizens reaches for his
pistol pocket. Spaniards are nervous people, on the move all the time,
and it is on account of fleas. Every man, woman and ch