CHAPTER IV
CURIOUS SIGHTS
ELENA was propped up with pillows in a deep chair by the window whichopened out upon the street. She looked lonely, but when she saw the carsweep along the street and stop at their door, her face beamed happily.There was no jealousy in Elena's heart because her brother was beingthus favoured by their uncle.
"Oh, Elena, mia," cried Francisco, throwing his arms about her, andkissing her on each pale cheek. "Do you feel able to take a ride with usthis afternoon?"
"I think she is," answered his mother, entering the room, and taking herson into a close embrace. "But how I have missed my Nino, Juan," turningto her brother, the Colonel.
"Perhaps I have been selfish in taking him from you, Anita. Shall Ileave him here?"
"Ah, no! The lad needs you, Juan. He has no father to teach him as heshould be taught. It is the very opportunity for him; and I am mostpleased. Only, let me see him often, and I shall be content."
"That you shall, and this afternoon just after _mate_, we will come totake you and Elena with us for a ride. It may bring roses to hercheeks," and he pinched the pale cheeks as he passed her on his wayout.
True to their promise, at five o'clock the automobile drew up in frontof Francisco's home and the Colonel, himself, carried Elena out to it,and placed her in the nest of pillows on the broad leather seat. Hermother followed and before Elena realized it, they were speeding towardthe central part of the city.
"Where does the little White Rose wish to go?" inquired her uncle.
"Oh, anywhere--away from this horrid street. I am so tired of it. If Imay, I should love to see the water."
"To the river, Enrique," laughingly ordered her uncle. "Only, the riverisn't a very pretty sheet of water. It is so murky, and I think shouldbe called the River of Bronze rather than the River of Silver."
"I know, Uncle Juan; but when I had the fever it was water, water, waterI dreamt of, and now I want to see my fill of it."
"That you shall, White Rose, for right here at Buenos Aires the river isover twenty-five miles wide and the city has a frontage of four milesalong the waterfront."
They passed through the Plaza Mayo, and Francisco had to tell Elena ofhaving seen el Presidente that morning. Then they turned into thePaseo-de-Julio, a one-sided boulevard facing the river two blocks away.The intervening space was a maze of small plazas where palms, flowers,shrubs and statuary edge the waterfront like a band of solid green.Beyond, before Elena could see the water, were the busy docks, hugemasonry basins, where over two thousand ocean-going vessels come and goduring the span of a year.
Electric cranes were swinging the great cargoes of wheat and cattle intothe yawning holds of the vessels, and on and on the sea of funnels andmasts stretched until the muddy line of water at last broke on thesight. Francisco was alert, his brown eyes taking in every detail of thestirring busy scene; but Elena's hungry eyes looked past this to thewater beyond.
"Some day, I hope to go away in one of those big vessels," sheannounced.
"Indeed, and which one will you choose, little White Rose? Here is awide choice. That large one with the enormous smokestacks and theBritish flag flying above her, is a Royal Mail Steam-ship from England.One of these leaves every Friday for England, and besides the mail,carries about fifteen hundred passengers. On one of them you wouldtravel in great luxury; electric fans, electric elevators, an orchestrawith dances every evening, and dressing for dinner at night. Oh! it'sgay enough, the life on those magnificent steamers!
"Then, alongside of it you see a smaller boat, a French liner fromMarseilles. They go weekly also, and they bring us our champagne and ouropera companies; why, this very automobile came on one of them. There'san Italian liner and just beyond are some German boats. In the SouthDock is a river boat that goes up country to Paraguay; our oranges comeon those. And all about are smaller boats, some sailing vessels thatcarry coffee from Brazil, and yellow pine from New Orleans in the UnitedStates."
"Why, that one just over yonder flies the Stars and Stripes of NorthAmerica," cried Francisco, pointing to a small vessel.
"Not exactly, Nino. It is from _Los Estados Unidos_.[9] You must notconfound them, for the United States are but a part of North America,although many of our people do not seem to think so. But you do not seemany of their flags in our docks. The commercial relations between ourtwo countries are as yet in their infancy. The most of our export andimport business is done with Europe."
"Do they not send anything at all down here, but yellow pine, Uncle?"this from Francisco.
"Yes, oh! yes. They are sending us machinery, especially agriculturalmachinery. When you go with me to the country you will see theirwind-mills, steam threshers and binders in great quantities. They sendus other machinery, of many kinds, but in comparison with our trade withGermany and England it is very little."
"And do these big ships go back empty to Europe?" inquired Elena,pointing to the long wharves.
"By no means, little girl. See those heavy carts going towards thedocks? Well, I don't suppose your young mind can take in the figures,but Francisco will understand, when I tell you, those carts carried onehundred and fifty million bushels of wheat last year to those returningships, to say nothing of millions of sheep, frozen quarters of beef,wool, cheese and even butter and eggs. Anita," turning to his sister, "Idoubt if you, yourself, have ever been to the Barracas, have you?"
"No, Juan. It is so far from the residence district and I never happenedto drive that way."
"Then we will ride over there now and let you all see the largestwholesale produce market under one roof that you can find in all theworld."
For two miles they sped through narrow streets; past crowded tenements,in front of which scores of dirty children quarrelled and played, andwhere the _peons_ or working classes huddle, sometimes families offourteen in one room; past _tambos_, where the cows and goats stand insheds, open to the street, awaiting to be milked while the customerwaits; past gray spired churches, their wide doors always open, invitingthe pious passer-by to enter for prayer; passed _fideos_ factories,where curious shaped macaroni hangs drying in the sun in the opencourtyards; on and on they bumped, for the streets here werecobble-stones, until, at last, they reached the vast building coveringmany acres, where wheat, wool, corn and produce are bought and sold tothe foreign trade.
"Were it not so late, we would alight and see it closer. However, Elenacould not walk, anyhow. Already, I fear she has had too long a ride forher strength, and we hope not to tire her on this, her first outing; eh,White Rose?" But Elena was fast asleep, her head on her mother'sshoulder.
The chauffeur turned the car towards the city, where here and there, inthe gathering dusk, an electric light could be seen as if notifying theday, by these advance signals, that its duty was over.
Elena slept on and did not see the wonderful _Avenida_ as they flewalong its smooth surface, so like Paris as to seem a bit of that gaycity picked up and transferred to American soil; the plane treesbordering it, with here and there a small newspaper _kiosk_ like aminiature temple; the splendid building of "La Prensa," the richestnewspaper in the world, where the Buenos Aires public can obtain theservices of the best doctors, lawyers, or dentists free of charge;invitingly odorous confectioneries or restaurants with small tables onthe sidewalks at which handsomely dressed men and women sit eating anddrinking and watching the gay multitude; bewildering shop windows fullof the latest Parisian novelties; fruit and flower boys, with theirtrays of luscious fruits and delicately scented blossoms balancedunaided on their heads; hotels just beginning to glitter with theirmyriads of electric lights; all of these passed by them as Elena sleptthe sleep of exhaustion.
Francisco, however, missed none of it, for his was the Latin spiritfull of love of pleasure and display, bright lights and gay crowds. Hisuncle watched him intently from under his heavy brows.
Suddenly a weird, unearthly wail arose above the hum of the traffic allaround. Elena started up, frightened and trembling, but, as she h
adheard it before, she recognized it, and fell back asleep again.Francisco had heard it also, but never so close, it seemed right besidehim.
"Uncle, may we not go back by the Prensa building and see what hashappened?" he cried excitedly.
The Colonel agreed and Enrique crossed to the other side of the street,entering the long line of vehicles going west, for the "rule of theroad" in Argentina is "keep to the left." The hoarse, wailing steamwhistle had drawn the crowds towards the handsome building from whosetower it was issuing, and they could not reach it within half a block.Mounted policemen were everywhere trying to disperse the crowd. It wasgood-natured as any Latin crowd, but refused to be moved; like a hotwater bag, it bulged out in one spot when pressed down in another. Andall of this--because the bulletin methods of this mighty newspaper areso unusual.
Whenever any unexpected occurrence takes place in Europe or any part ofthe world this enterprising "daily" apprises the public of it by blowingthis stridently piercing steam whistle. It was blown when Queen Victoriapassed away; its howl distressed the nervous citizens when San Franciscowas almost in ashes, and its present message was that a son and heir hadbeen born to the King and Queen of Spain. This was made known from thefront steps of the building and very soon the crowd was a cheering,hat-waving mob. It was momentarily growing more excited and Enriqueturned into a side street and sped towards the house in Calle Cerrito,where Elena, now thoroughly aroused by the boisterous tumult about them,could be tucked away into bed.
As Francisco and el Coronel Lacevera sat at dinner that eveningdiscussing the event of the afternoon, while softly gliding servants inquiet livery served them, the Colonel said:--
"Did you know, Nino, that every time La Prensa blows that whistle asthey did to-day, it costs them three hundred dollars?"
"Why, Uncle Juan, does it use up as much steam as that?" earnestlyinquired Francisco.
"Scarcely," laughed the Colonel, as he lifted up an enormous bunch ofmuscatel grapes, weighing several pounds, from the platter of fruitbefore him, "scarcely that, Nino, but our city government fines themthat amount every time they blow it, as they term it a public nuisance.Now, when they want to indulge in this sensational advertising, theysend a messenger on to the _Commissaria_ post haste to deposit the fine,timing his arrival just as the last howl of the whistle sounds acrossthe city."
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 9: The United States.]