They comprise the few wealthy ones of Spanish
descent, who are renegade to their own nativity, and are appealing to
the good people of the United States to establish them in their status
of master of peons without any overlord who can exact his tithes for
the privilege.
[Illustration: San Juan Hill.]
The next thing you notice is the furtive look of the thief. No one has
ever yet had a chance to look one of these chocolate-colored Cubans
straight in the eye. They sneak along. Their gait has in it something
of that of the Apache, the same soft moccasined tread, noiseless and
always stealthy. Your impressions as to their honesty can be instantly
confirmed. Leave anything loose, from a heavy winter overcoat, which
no one could possibly use in Cuba, to--oh well, anything--and any
Cuban in sight will take great pleasure in dispelling any false
impressions that honesty is a native virtue.
Next you notice that he is dirty. His wife does sometimes make a faint
attempt at personal cleanliness; this is evident, because in one
bright instance a white dress was seen on a native woman, that had
been washed sometime in her history. But as to his lordship, the proud
male citizen of Cuba libre, you would utterly and bitterly insult him
by the intimation that a man of his dignity ought ever to bathe, put
on clean clothes, or even wash his hands.
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