"It was a sight never to be forgotten that unfolded to our view as we drove down one of those long colonnades of palm, over which the parasites trailed, linking tree to tree with garlands of scarlet, rose, and golden blossoms—the snowy orange-flowers contrasting with its coppery fruit—gloomy pine, spruce, and cypress, with glimpses between of the coffee-trees loaded with their crimson berries.
"Thousands of birds flitted about, lending animation to the gorgeous tropical scene,—gaudy parrots, white doves, orioles, and blue-birds; while myriads of humming-birds of rose and emerald, gold and purple, wove and flashed among the trees.
"We, who live in these dull northern climes, can not fancy the pictures of life and color that adorn the forests of tropical America; but as I sat that Christmas-day amid the Cuban groves, and ate the most luscious fruits, fresh from the tree, the glorious sunlight sifting down through the feathery, fern-like palm-leaves, and over all the cloudless blue of the southern skies, I thought of the snow and ice which wrapped the hills and meadows of my northern home. But a feeling of longing stole over me for the brooks, bound by their crystal fetters and sheltered by the oak-clad hills, the merry jingling sleigh-bells in the frosty air, and, amid all this wealth of bloom and tropic life, my heart turned back to the memory of rustic joys in my boyhood's home,—the roaring fire on the hearth-stone, when the frost-rime crept over the window-pane; the rushing of the storm-king, as he piled the ghostly drift without, or fled shrieking by, shaking the gables in his wild wrath. Then fancy came thronging on with dear faces of the home-folk that I had not seen for years; and when I awoke, with a start, to the thought that the ocean rolled between me and my distant home, do not blame me that a tear-drop went trickling down through the sunlight of that foreign tropic land.
"After loitering for a few hours among the coffee-trees, we ascended a mountain to drink of the waters of a famous mineral spring, which gushes from among the lofty cliffs; and as I stood on the verge of a precipice, before me there spread a landscape of matchless grandeur,—the wide savannas with their fields of cane, tobacco, and fruit, the dim city, begirt with its walls and grim fortresses, and the blue harbor, crowded with the ships of all nations; while far away to the north, stretching out, it seemed, to eternity, lay the trackless ocean, dotted with white winged ships and those gem-like islands, 'The Queen's Gardens.'
"Driving back to the city, we paid a moonlight visit to the tomb of Columbus. I stood long and silently by the urn where rests all that remains of the Great Mariner—all save the Columbian spirit, which will pervade the people of America as long as this continent endures.
"Yes; you and I are actuated by the same spirit that guided the illustrious pioneers out toward the setting sun—enterprise, ambition, and energy. As I noted the humble monument, I bitterly recalled the ingratitude and perfidy of Spain; but when there rose to my mind a vision of the grand and powerful nations, the splendid cities and happy homes of the thronging millions from Montreal to Buenos Ayres,—these, I mused, are the monuments befitting the noble hero, and it matters not that the lowly urn in the old cathedral holds the ashes of mortality.
"Coming forth into the mellow moonlight, I paused a moment to gather a spray from the roses and passion-flowers, blooming in dew-drenched clusters amid the orange and myrtle of the Paseo hard by; and as I stood drinking, as it were, the odors of that perfume-laden air, afar off could be heard the sullen boom of the breakers as the sea broke in thunder on the walls of Moro Castle, while the faint, sweet notes of a guitar floated out upon the night, mingling with the diapason of old ocean's roar as it chanted its hymn of eternity on the rocky beach.
"Two weeks later I drove up to my father's gate, through the snow and ice of a Northern winter. The white drift wrapped the hills and meadows, and the gurgle of the brook in the sheltered valley sang faint and muffled within its crystal prison; the dear old cedars bent low under their white burden, and from the eaves of the time-worn, red brick homestead, the icicles hung glittering like spears in the frosty light.
"When I left home four years before, I was a smooth-faced boy of twenty, but while in the mines I had grown a beard like a Turk; and although in San Francisco I had passed under the sway of the barber, who despoiled me of more locks than Samson ever lost, yet enough remained to complete my disguise; and I was smiling at the surprise I had in store for the home-folks, when the door opened, and lo! Amy came flying down the path with such an outcry that all the family came rushing upon the scene, Amy saying, between smiles and tears:—
"'Oh, George, you thought we wouldn't know you; but I was watching, and when you paused at the gate and looked so wistfully towards the house, I knew—oh, it must be you!'