"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 agricultural machinery. When you go with me to the country you will see their wind-mills, steam threshers and binders in great quantities. They send us other machinery, of many kinds, but in comparison with our trade with Germany 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 the docks? Well, I don't suppose your young mind can take in the figures, but Francisco will understand, when I tell you, those carts carried one hundred and fifty million bushels of wheat last year to those returning ships, to say nothing of millions of sheep, frozen quarters of beef, wool, cheese and even butter and eggs. Anita," turning to his sister, "I doubt if you, yourself, have ever been to the Barracas, have you?"
"No, Juan. It is so far from the residence district and I never happened to drive that way."
"Then we will ride over there now and let you all see the largest wholesale produce market under one roof that you can find in all the world."
For two miles they sped through narrow streets; past crowded tenements, in front of which scores of dirty children quarrelled and played, and where the peons or working classes huddle, sometimes families of fourteen in one room; past tambos, where the cows and goats stand in sheds, open to the street, awaiting to be milked while the customer waits; past gray spired churches, their wide doors always open, inviting the pious passer-by to enter for prayer; passed fideos factories, where curious shaped macaroni hangs drying in the sun in the open courtyards; on and on they bumped, for the streets here were cobble-stones, until, at last, they reached the vast building covering many acres, where wheat, wool, corn and produce are bought and sold to the foreign trade.
"Were it not so late, we would alight and see it closer. However, Elena could not walk, anyhow. Already, I fear she has had too long a ride for her 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's shoulder.
The chauffeur turned the car towards the city, where here and there, in the gathering dusk, an electric light could be seen as if notifying the day, by these advance signals, that its duty was over.
Elena slept on and did not see the wonderful Avenida as they flew along its smooth surface, so like Paris as to seem a bit of that gay city picked up and transferred to American soil; the plane trees bordering it, with here and there a small newspaper kiosk like a miniature temple; the splendid building of "La Prensa," the richest newspaper in the world, where the Buenos Aires public can obtain the services of the best doctors, lawyers, or dentists free of charge; invitingly odorous confectioneries or restaurants with small tables on the sidewalks at which handsomely dressed men and women sit eating and drinking and watching the gay multitude; bewildering shop windows full of the latest Parisian novelties; fruit and flower boys, with their trays of luscious fruits and delicately scented blossoms balanced unaided on their heads; hotels just beginning to glitter with their myriads of electric lights; all of these passed by them as Elena slept the sleep of exhaustion.