aleigh and the life of Captain Fry with all
the old wood cuts and the newspaper comments of the time at a book
store here. I don't know when we shall get away but it is no use
kicking about it, Michaelson is doing all he can and the new tug will
be along in a week anyway. I shall be so glad to get to Cuba that I
will dance with glee.

DICK.

MATANZAS, January 15th, 1897.

DEAR MOTHER:

I sent you a note by Remington which he will mail in the States-- From
here I go to Sagua La Grande. It is on the northern coast. I think
from there I shall cross over to Cienfuegos on the Southern coast and
then if I can catch a steamer go to Santiago to see my old friends, at
the Juraqua mines and MacWilliams' ore road and "the Palms"--
Everywhere I am treated well on account of Weyler's order and I am
learning a great deal and talking very little, my Spanish being bad.
There is war here and no mistake and all the people in the fields have
been ordered in to the fortified towns where they are starving and
dying of disease. Yesterday I saw the houses of these people burning
on both sides of the track-- They gave shelter to the insurgents and so
very soon they found their houses gone. I am so relieved at getting
old Remington to go as though I had won $5000. He was a splendid
fellow but a perfect kid and had to be humored and petted all the time.
I shall if I have luck be through with this in a few weeks but it has
had such a set back at the start that I am afraid it can never make a
book and I doubt if I can write a decent article even. I am so anxious
not to keep you worrying any longer than is necessary and so I am
hurrying along taking only a car window view of things. Address me
care of Consul General Lee, Havana and confine your remarks to what is
going on at home. I know what is going on here. I don't believe half
I hear but I am being slowly converted. Remington is more excitable
than I am, so don't misunderstand if he starts in violently. I am
getting details and verifying things. He is right on a big scale but
every one has lied so about this island that I do not want to say
anything I do not believe is true. This is a beautiful little city and
after Jaruco, where we slept two days ago, it is Paris. There we slept
off the barnyard and cows and chickens walked all over the floor and
fleas all over us. It was like Honduras only filthier. Speaking of
Paris, tell the Kid I expect to go over to him soon after