Outside of Buenos Aires the old conservatism concerning the position of women still prevails. It must be admitted that there is something attractive about their life. The big roomy windows, and the balconies which jut out over the street on each floor, and the women seem made for each other. The balconies were first designed for the wives and daughters of the Spaniards to look out upon the street, since they were not allowed to go out freely. I know of no sight prettier or more enchanting than to see these balconies filled with women and children on the occasion of a carnival or other festive occasion. Two, three or four tiers of balconies, one above another, will be crowded with women all in white, and it is a sight upon which to feast the eyes. Then a family group in one of the big windows, with the young ladies seated on the window itself, forms a picture that will linger in the memory.
The women of Argentina are the antithesis of English or American women in many ways. The masculine type is very rare, for the restrictions and customs rather accentuate the purely feminine traits. In youth they are beautiful and none can help but admire both face and figure. They can express in the flash of an eye what an English girl could not say in a quarter of an hour. In addition to the attractiveness granted her by nature the Argentina is an adept at all the arts of the toilet, and is generally familiar with rouge, the pencil and the powder puff; in these she is a connoisseur, and does not hesitate to apply her knowledge. In many the Spanish and Italian types have been moulded together and the beauty has probably been accentuated. As a rule her carriage is graceful, but her voice—that is the one disappointing quality. The voice is generally rather shrill, and, when excited, very unpleasant. Furthermore, they always speak in a monotonous, high-keyed, sing-song manner.
BLACK-HAIRED CHILDREN OF ARGENTINA
A lack of exercise and a love of big dinners and wines soon develops a stoutness that does not add to the beauty of the Argentine woman. One will seldom see a woman in any city walking if a conveyance can possibly be had, and it is certainly a good thing for the cabbie. It is at a late hour when they arise and they seldom don other than negligée before the middle of the afternoon. In later years they become very stout—one might cruelly say, fleshy. In Buenos Aires they are beginning to look upon a little more freedom as their birthright. One will see young women on the street or in the street car unaccompanied by the duenna or other companion, which would be unknown in Spain. Whereas they used to look upon English girls as fast, because of their freedom, now they are longing to adopt the same freedom of action, and it seems to be coming by degrees. The matron becomes very much domesticated and devotes herself unstintingly to her children and their welfare. In this way many of the youngsters are really spoiled. Their devotion to their children is, however, to be greatly admired, and a great affection seems to exist for the mother among all her children, both girls and boys.
“I should think that these mothers would get tired of black hair,” said an American woman to me in Buenos Aires. And then it dawned upon me with full force that all of these Latin-American children have black hair. It had not seemed to me as monotonous or tiresome before, for there is an individuality about each face, just as there is about that of children the world over. It is true that the hair of these children is almost uniformly of that hue, but I am very sure that the mothers find their children no less interesting because Carmencita, Juanita, Consuela, Maria, Juan, José, Santiago, Antonio and all their little brothers and sisters have hair of the same shade. These children of Latin-America are very numerous, for families are generally larger than they are in the United States. It is nothing unusual to see the mother or both parents get on board a train followed by six or eight children, all of whom are of tender ages.
The Spaniard has the reputation of being cruel. He is so to his horse or mule, he can view the cruelties of the bull-fight with enthusiasm, but his voice softens in speaking to a child. In fact the children are often petted and humoured too much, and the affection lavished upon them becomes a passion. And yet these bewitching little people are never unmindful of the simple courtesies of life. They learn the amenities of speech almost from the cradle. Ask some little fellow in Spanish America his name, and he will probably roll out a long name, such as Jesus Antonio Martinez y Alcorta, “at the service of God and yourself.” Pass some compliment on little Carmencita and see how quickly she will say, “It is a compliment you pay me,” or “mil gracias,” a thousand thanks. Offer her some little courtesy and she accepts “con mucho gusto,” with much pleasure, to which you should reply “the pleasure will be mine.” It is hardly safe to admire an ornament of a little mite of only eight or ten years. She will instantly remove it and offer it to you with the expression, “It is at the disposal of your worship.” The proper “disposal” is to refuse the gift in nice polite terms. It is really remarkable, and oftentimes touching, to observe these little courtesies in the niñas and muchachas. It even extends to their prayers, for here is the Spanish form of bed-time prayer:—
“Jesus, Joseph, Mary,
Your little servant keep,
While, with your kind permission,