Bananas are sold five for a cent, or a
bunch of a hundred bananas for twenty-five cents. Think of it! In New
York it would cost us three to five dollars.
There are ever and ever so many kinds of fruits of which we do not even
know the name. But we make a list of those whose names we do know, and
here they are: oranges, bananas, plantains, limes, lemons, cocoanuts,
bread-fruit, bread nuts, pomegranates, dates, figs, pawpaws, the
tamarind, sugar apple, grosella, mammee, guava, granadilla, naseberry,
alligator pears, shaddocks, and Indian plums.
Could you find so many in a New York, New Orleans, Chicago, or San
Francisco market, do you think?
Then here are the vegetables. They would make even a longer list, but we
note a few of those with whose names and forms we are acquainted: yams,
sweet potatoes, Irish potatoes, carrots, turnips, celery, beets, egg
plant, radishes, peas, beans, tomatoes, cabbage, pumpkins, cantaloupes,
watermelons, squashes, peppers, cassava, yantias, and okra.
[Illustration: A POULTRY DEALER.]
The people in the market, seeing that we are Americans, try to charge
us many times what each article is worth. If we travel very far, we will
find that this is a custom of the people in many countries. They think
all Americans are rich.
[Illustration: THE MARKET PLACE AT PONCE, PUERTO RICO.]
Now this is a great mistake, and so we decline very firmly to buy
anything at all. This offends the market people. They wish us to make
them an offer.
They offer us their fruits for half the first price. Again we refuse. A
fourth of the original price. We shake our heads.
Our guide now offers to make our purchases for us, and does so for a
very small sum. And the market people and venders are quite satisfied.
It is all they expected.
* * * * *
HOMES AND HOME LIFE.
A narrow, shaded street tempts us to leave the noisy, business part of
the town and the throng that crowds these streets and plazas, and stray
into the suburbs.
No matter which way we turn, some new picture meets our eyes.
Wandering along, we peep into doorways, courtyards and pleasant patios.
Some of the houses have crosses upon their summits, to show the devotion
of the inmates to their religion.
Others have a palm branch twined among the iron bars of their balconies,
or placed aloft, to protect the house from evil. This branch was one of
those blessed at the cathedral the last Palm Sunday.
A piece of white paper floating from the iron railing of a balcony tells
us that the house is to let. Here buildings can be rented by the day or
week, as well as by the month or year.
The dwellings and other buildings are of gray stone or brick, stuccoed
over and tinted blue, yellow, drab or any other color but pink.
About half the houses are two stories in height, the others one story;
but all are flat-roofed and without chimneys. The main or upper story
has iron balconies which project over the narrow streets and darken
them. The houses have no windows of glass, but the window openings are
provided with heavy shutters. We enter these houses through interior
courts or patios.
Many of the rich Puerto Ricans have fountains, trees, and flowers in
these open central courts; a few have roof gardens. Here the family sits
in the evening to catch the cool sea breezes. Others sit on their
balconies along the outside of the house, or along the inner court or
patio.
The patio is the coolest place about the house during the heated hours
of the day. Here the women bring their sewing or embroidery, and chat.
It is also the favorite playground of the children, and in its shade the
men of the household take their afternoon nap.
There are no yards or gardens attached to these houses. The only green
spots to be found are the inner courts, the public squares or plazas,
and the garden of the Governor-General's palace.
There is no portion of the city set aside for the rich or the poor.
People of means, of education, and of refinement live in the upper
stories. The poor live in crowded rooms and patios, and in basements or
in dirty alleys.
Many of the wealthy, fashionable people live in the pretty suburban
towns. Others, who are engaged in business in the cities, live over
their stores, on the second floor.
The lower floors are occupied by servants, or poor people. To reach the
upper stories of these buildings, we must pass through a crowd of
children, dogs, and poultry in the courtyard below.
Upstairs the rooms are large and the ceilings lofty. The windows reach
to the floor, and the shutters are kept open to admit the air.
The homes of even the wealthy seem to us plainly furnished. There is no
upholstered furniture. It is too warm for this, they tell us. But wood
furniture, wickerwork, and willow ware are used.
The floors in the best houses are tiled or are made of hard wood.
Carpets are never used, but rugs are seen occasionally in the center of
a room.
The bedrooms are small and not well ventilated. The beds are canopied
and trimmed with fine handmade lace.
The walls are usually bare; but here and there a fine painting may be
seen. Giant ferns and broad-spreading palm leaves are used to festoon
the walls and arched doorways. These are cut fresh and renewed from day
to day, and they make the dark, cool rooms attractive and inviting.
Within and without the house, potted tropical plants are found.
Peeping into the bath room of one of these homes we see, not a bath
tub, but a swimming pool large enough to accommodate a young whale.
