to
her, and she learns its coquettish and graceful use from very childhood.
Formed of various rich materials, it glitters in her hand like a gaudy
butterfly, now half, now wholly shading her radiant face, which quickly
peeps out again from behind its shelter, like the moon from out a gilded
cloud. This little article (always rich and expensive), perfectly
indispensable in a Cuban lady's costume, in their hands seems almost to
speak; she has a witching flirt with it that expresses scorn; a graceful
wave of complaisance; an abrupt closing of it, that indicates vexation
or anger; a gradual and cautious opening of its folds, that signifies
reluctant forgiveness; in short, the language of the fan in a Cuban's
hand is an adroit and expressive pantomime, that requires no foreign
interpreter.

It may be owing to the prodigality of nature in respect to Flora's
kingdom, which has led to no development among the people of Cuba, in
the love and culture of flowers. Of course this remark is intended in a
general point of view, there necessarily being exceptions to establish
the rule. But it is a rare thing to see flowers under cultivation here,
other than such as spring up from the over-fertile soil, unplanted and
untended. In New Orleans one cannot pass out of the doors of the St.
Charles Hotel, at any hour of the day, without being saluted first by
the flavor of magnolias, and then by a Creole flower-girl, with "Buy a
bouquet for a dime, sir?" But nothing of the sort is seen in Cuba;
flowers are a drug. Nevertheless, I fear that people who lack an
appreciation of these "illumined scriptures of the prairie," show a want
of delicacy and refinement that even an humble Parisian grisette is not
without. Scarcely can you pass from the coast of Cuba inland for half a
league, in any direction, without your senses being regaled by the
fragrance of natural flowers,--the heliotrope, honeysuckle, sweet pea,
and orange blossoms predominating. The jessamine and cape rose, though
less fragrant, are delightful to the eye, and cluster everywhere, among
the hedges, groves and plantations.

There seems to be, at times, a strange narcotic influence in the
atmosphere of the island, more especially inland, where the visitor is
partially or wholly removed from the winds that usually blow from the
gulf in the after part of the day. So potent has the writer felt this
influence, that at first it was supposed to be the effect of some
powerful plant that mi