he slow liberation of the blacks has accustomed them
to freedom, and any organized outrage from that source has ceased to
be feared."

Why all the bells in Havana should be rung furiously and continuously
every morning about daylight, one cannot exactly understand. There
does not seem to be any concert of action in this awful conspiracy
against sleep; but the tumult thus brought about would certainly seem
to be sufficient to "wake the isle from its propriety." From every
square with its church, and every church with its towers, this
brazen-tongued clamor is relentlessly poured forth. In most Christian
lands one good bell is all-sufficient for a church steeple, but here
they have them in the plural, and all striving to excel each other at
the same moment. Of course no one is able to sleep amid such an
outburst of noise, or within the radius of a league. Bells and
mosquitoes are two of the prevailing nuisances of this thrice-sunny
city. Nor must we forget to add to these aggravations the ceaseless,
triumphant crowing of the game-cocks, the noisiest and most boastful
of birds, large numbers of which are kept by the citizens purely for
gambling purposes in the cock-pit. Besides these "professional" birds,
every nook and corner is filled with fowls kept for brooding purposes,
each bird family with its crower.

We have said that the Cuban ladies rarely stir abroad except in a
vehicle, and whatever their domestic habits may be, they are certainly
good housekeepers in this respect. While our ladies are busy sweeping
the city sidewalks with their trailing dresses, these wisely leave
that business to the gangs of criminals detailed from prison to fill
that office, with their limbs chained and a heavy ball attached to
preserve their equilibrium,--though we should qualify this remark by
saying that these condemned men, once so common upon the streets and
highways, were not seen during our late visit to Havana. It is,
perhaps, owing to the home-keeping habits of the ladies that the feet
of the Cuban senoritas are such marvels of smallness and delicacy,
seemingly made rather for ornament than for use. You catch a glimpse
of them as they step into their victorias, and perceive that they are
daintily shod in French slippers, the soles of which are scarcely more
substantial than brown paper. Their feet are made for ornament and for
dancing. Though they possess a roundness of form that leaves nothing
to be desired in symmetry of figure