Whether
from habit or from love of gain, Bunga never forsook his favourite
vocation, but continued to bear his sorrows from door to door, as if
they still belonged to him.

In Cuba, at least, beggars may be said to be choosers. Saturday is the
day which they prefer for transacting their business, because it
precedes Sunday, when the faithful attend high mass in the church, and
go to confession. Except on Saturday, and on some festive occasions, it
is a rare event for a beggar to be seen asking alms in the public
streets.

Every Saturday morning I pay my respects to Don Benigno and his amiable
senora, Dona Mercedes, who, as I have already explained, keep open house
in more than one way; the huge doors of their habitation being ajar at
all hours. As I sit chatting with my worthy hostess, the street
door--which has direct communication with the reception room--is boldly
thrown open, and a white lady, attired in well-starched muslin, and
adorned with jewels, enters. I rise, in accordance with the polite
custom of the country, while Don Benigno offers the visitor a
rocking-chair. The conversation proceeds on subjects of general
interest, in which the visitor joins. Curiously, I am never introduced
to the lady in muslin; but the unusual behaviour of my host is soon
accounted for. After a few minutes the stranger senora rises, and
approaching Dona Mercedes, offers her hand. Dona Mercedes does not take
the proffered palm, but simply places upon it a piece of silver coin of
the value of a franc.

'May Heaven reward you,' says the lady-beggar, and takes her gift and
her leave without another word.

Something like a Beggars' Opera may be realised whilst sitting before
Don Benigno's huge window on Saturday morning, and watching the
thriftless performers as they pass. The entertainment 'opens' at the
early hour of six A.M.; from that time till the Cuban breakfast-hour of
eleven, we are treated with begging solos only: mendicants who stand and
deliver monologues like Carrapatam Bunga or Munekon--an equally popular
beggar. Sometimes the applicant for charity announces himself with a
bold bang on the door, followed by the pious ejaculation, 'Ave Maria!'
The lame, or otherwise afflicted, are content with simply directing
attention to their misfortunes, while the less 'favoured' attract public
regard by humming a wild air, to which a gibberish libretto is attached,
or by descanting upon social and political matters. The ill-paved
c