tates, planned and constructed railroads, and undertook numerous other enterprises which depend on uninterrupted peace for fruition and profits. More recently, as the interior of the island has been made available by railroad communication, American investments have been made in lands held by native Cubans.

The fact which must be kept in mind is this: the Cubans proper never have been, are not now, and probably never will be the owners of more than a small minority of the landed and other property in the island. The wealthy Cubans almost without exception are in favor either of annexation or some other method by which the United States shall exercise direct authority in the larger governmental affairs of Cuba. They do not say so openly, for obvious reasons. It will be only a few years before the bulk of the land will be bought by American investors and resold to American settlers. Beyond doubt, there are many Cubans who will refuse to sell their land and who through imitation of the methods of the peaceful invaders of their island will become affluent; but the inflowing tide of money from the United States and other countries will change the names on most of the title deeds.

Cuba has a population of less than 1,700,000. It is capable of supporting and will attract to itself ten times that number. Where will these millions come from? There is only one answer to that question. The same spirit which lures hundreds of thousands of American farmers from the land of their birth to the wheat fields of Northwestern Canada, will call similar armies to the more glittering promises of wealth in Cuban orange groves, sugar plantations, cattle raising, and the numberless fields of activity which as yet have scarcely been touched. It may safely be predicted that a way will be found to insure to them as safe a form of government as that maintained by Canada.

To the development of Cuba, as I shall more fully point out later in this article, there must be applied hundreds of millions of dollars. Most of this will come from the United States. It must be as secure from loss through the instability or inefficiency of government as are the billions of foreign investors who depend on the good faith or our successive administrations.

THE GOOD FAITH OF THE UNITED STATES

Whatever may be the immediate outcome of this latest trouble in Cuba, one thing may be taken for granted from the position of President

Roosevelt in his solemn warning to Cuba: a repetition of the outbreak will not be tolerated by the American people. It has had its value in giving both countries a clearer understanding of the meaning of the Platt amendment, and it has strikingly justified the incorporation of that clause giving this Government. the right to intervene before the Cubans had wrecked the ship placed in their charge. Theoretically it may be their ship, but it is laden with our cargo and carries our passengers. The world knows now that our promise that war should cease in Cuba meant exactly what it said. It knows that the material development of Cuba will not again be menaced by the whims and thwarted ambitions of native politicians who appeal to arms rather than to arguments and to orderly methods. The professional Cuban guerrilla will be made to know that his calling has ended; he will discover that the inexorable laws of commercial and industrial development have decreed that the future of his country shall be distinguished by the victories of peace rather than by the petty triumphs of devastating civil wars.

The leaders of these Cuban factions have no proper conception of what the future holds out for their country. In passing, I wish to state positively that nothing in this article should be construed as intimating that any faction in Cuba is inspired by antipathy to the United States. They welcome the influx of American settlers and investors, knowing full well that just in proportion as it is encouraged their common prosperity will follow; but they seem incapable of understanding that the modern methods of industry and finance are too delicate and complicated to withstand the strain of the interruption of governmental functions. They seem to assume that so long as they fight one another, the newcomers should be willing to suspend work and business until one faction wins. There is too much ego in their cosmos, but their horizon will expand. The trouble at the present moment is that the world knows more of them than they do of the world. They also are unfortunate in underestimating the present and future value of the land of their birth.

The completion of the Panama Canal will make of Cuba the strategic intermediate point at which all marine traffic will touch. The great stream of the world's commerce will split against Cape San Antonio on its west, and along its thousands of miles of coast new cities

will arise to contest the supremacy of Havana and Santiago. But the development of the island will not await the completion of the Panama Canal.

If one were to permit the average boy to help himself to any of the articles in a general store, it is likely that he would ignore all else and gorge his appetite on sugar and candy. The Spaniard who found himself in full possession of Cuba imitated that boy. With the raw material all about him, from which could be fashioned most forms of marketable products, he was content to revel in sugar and tobacco. He came to know that the soil was inexhaustible, that sugar and tobacco could easily be raised in unlimited quantities for a never-halting market, and his profits were so great that he could afford to import all other necessities and luxuries. Even with antiquated methods, his sugar plantations yielded more than 100 per cent. annually on his investment; why should he bother about factories and the complicated problems of modern machinery? Such was the policy of the masters of Cuba until the Spanish-American war. Not until within the last six years were the initial steps taken to introduce modern mechanical arts into Cuba. Right at the present moment there is hardly an industrial plant in Cuba worthy of mention save those devoted to sugar grinding and tobacco, and the other exceptions are those due to American enterprise. Most of the island is covered with timber, yet nearly all of the lumber used is imported from the United States. I made a thorough inspection of the best hotel in Havana-and if ever a city offered a chance for hotel enterprise Havana is that city-and I found that almost every article used in that hotel was imported from the United States. Kitchen utensils, glassware, plates, cutlery, furniture, carpets, beds, and so on, were imported. There are no woolen or cotton mills, no carriage works, no factories in which are produced such standard necessities as paper, stoves, boots, shoes, clocks, watches, and the myriad products in which the world is competing for the supremacy.

It is only a few years since the first refrigerator plants were installed in Cuba, and it then became possible to hang beef, mutton, and other meats before eating them. In all of Cuba there are to-day only a few small ice manufacturing plants: one in Havana, one in Santiago, and the others scattered. The new and enterprising American town of Ceballos num

bers its population by hundreds, yet its ice plant furnishes that heretofore unknown luxury to the populous city of Camaguey-formerly called Puerto Principe-the capital of central Cuba, and the third largest city in the island. The little town of Ceballos also contains the only modern hotel in Cuba; it is a fine structure, whose interior fittings were taken from the famous Hotel Plaza of New York City when it was torn down to make place for the giant edifice now building.

THE CUBA OF TO-MORROW

If one wish to forecast the Cuba of tomorrow, he can do no better than to study the new American settlements which will grow from villages to towns and cities in that section of central Cuba to the north and south of the ancient and sleepy Ciego de Avila. It was across this narrow part of the island that Weyler built his famous (or infamous) trocha, and it was in this once wilderness that thousands of Spanish soldiers and Cuban revolutionists lost their lives. It is only five years since Sir William Van Horne induced American capitalists to share his enthusiasm concerning the possibilities of Cuba, and as a consequence the railroad connecting Havana with Santiago opened up an empire to development. Hundreds of square miles of land surrounding Ciego de Avila have passed into American hands, and the towns now building are but the pioneers in a movement which will create the New Cuba.

It seems strange to step from the somnolent town of Ciego de Avila, with its picturesque streets and naked children, into the bustling activities of its American neighbor to the north. Ciego de Avila is not much changed since pirates sacked it a hundred and fifty years ago, but in five-year-old Ceballos we find banks, electric lights, churches, schools, hotels, a huge power plant, a beautiful park, automobiles, a woman's club, and most of the things we are accustomed to see in a land where palms do not fringe the horizon. For miles surrounding are orange groves which will this year begin to pour their products into the United States. There are sugar-cane fields owned by American investors through which one can ride at a trot all day and not reach the end.

Further to the east one enters the vast cattle country of Cuba, the unbroken plains which surround the city of Camaguey. Here

we find the cattlemen who are being driven out of the Texas ranges, and with them have come the rough-riding cowboys. Instead of the bleak ranges which we find in Remington's pictures, we see the cowboy's sombrero above a sea of guinea grass; instead of a rocky background we see the graceful foliage of the tropics set against the peerless Cuban sky. But the cowboy is the same, and the prediction that Texas cattle would not thrive in Cuba has already been proved false.

Yet farther to the east, we find American engineers cutting the path for railroads throughout all the great extent of the province of Santiago. On the rocky shores of Nipe Bay, millions of American money are being spent in creating the future port of Antilla. Here is one of the natural harbors of Cuba, and there are those who believe that it is destined to supplant Santiago. This year Guantanamo will have railroad connections with Havana, and it is the boast of the American railroad financiers that within a few years there will not be a spot in the island of Cuba more than twenty miles removed from steam or electric transportation. When one reflects that only five years ago there were nearly five hundred miles of the island east of Santa Clara without railroad connection with Havana, he can begin faintly to comprehend the marvel which has been wrought and which still is in progress.

In this connection it is well to call attention to the fact that the railroad development of Cuba will make guerrilla warfare impossible against an effective government. The time is past when small bodies of men can hide in inaccessible sections of the island. Were Cuba a state in our Federal Government, it would be as easy to quell one of its typical "revolutions" as it is to suppress a riot in a disorderly ward of New York or Chicago.

Those who imagine that it is possible to wander comfortably about Cuba without some knowledge of the Spanish language will find themselves mistaken. There are hundreds of towns in which it is difficult to find an interpreter, and even in Havana little English is spoken save in the hotels and in the shopping districts. This condition will be changed as the flood of American immigration increases, but the present traveller should study his Spanish-American dictionary carefully before venturing far from those centres where his countrymen have secured a foothold. One may live for a year in the average Cuban vil

lage and never hear a word of comment about the United States.

The first impression one receives of Cuba is best expressed in that hackneyed phrase, "a riot of color." The wonderful blue of the sky is accentuated by clouds which bear little resemblance to those of northern climes. They are not painted against a dull background; they float beneath a dome which seems immeasureable miles beyond them. Beneath is a vista of tropical verdure, and sharp against it are picturesque types of SpanishCuban architecture flaunting all the blendings of blue, green, yellow, red, purple, and violet. The external decorator can make no mistake which nature will not correct in Cuba. He may stripe a house so that it resembles a barber's pole, yet in a few weeks some alchemy in the atmosphere or in the rays of the sun will tone the original monstrosity into an effect which harmonizes perfectly with its surroundings. Within two months an ugly plastered wall will absorb tints which surpass those of the crumbling walls of foreign castles on which nature has been busy with sun, storm, fog, and cold for centuries. No wonder that Columbus declared of the island he discovered that "of the things they had seen, a thousand tongues would not suffice, nor his hand to write of it, for that it was like a scene of enchantment. He desired that many other prudent and creditable witnesses might see it, and he was sure that they would be as unable to exaggerate the scene as he was."

The great explorer was writing of Baracoa, the harbor in which his ships first anchored. Baracoa is beautiful but it does not compare with the superb Yumuri Valley which reaches toward Havana from Matanzas. Here is the fairy-land of the tropics, and no painter or poet will ever translate its unspeakable beauty. One who has seen a sunrise in the Yumuri Valley has a right to smile at those who tell of the marvels of continental scenery.

THE COST OF LIVING IN HAVANA

palace, there is an uninterrupted circulation of air through every part of it. Thick walls and heavy roofs withstand the glare of the sun. The typical Cuban house is built about a court or patio. This is paved and open to the sky and is surrounded by arcades and galleries. All the rooms open on it. As a rule the patio is filled with a profusion of shrubbery, lemon, palm, and banana trees, orchids, ferns, roses, and vines; a fountain splashes in the centre, and caged birds shrill their melody.

The new residential portion of Havana is called "The Vedado," and there is nothing in the United States which equals or approaches it for the artistic beauty of its architecture. Miles of perfect boulevards run parallel to the ocean, and along them is clustering the wealth of Cuba. Several American hotels are projected in this district and the time is not far distant when a winter establishment in the fashionable district of Havana or a country place in the hills back of such cities as Matanzas or Cardenas will be deemed as essential to Americans of wealth as is now a summer place in Lakewood, Newport, or Bar Harbor. Bar Harbor. Havana is rapidly increasing its population and will soon reach the half-million point. Its quaint and narrow streets, its palaces, churches, forts, boulevards, parks, and wonderful winter climate all combine to give the historical city a charm which ever lures the visitor back.

The inexperienced stranger will find that Havana is the most expensive place of temporary residence on earth. The hotel keepers and shopmen look on all Americans as millionaires who should be stripped of their loose wealth as quickly as possible. At the present time there is not a first-class hotel in the city. The ever increasing rush of visitors and investors will remedy this evil, but until then one must expect to pay from five to twenty dollars a day for more or less abominable service. If a Cuban learns that the prospective purchaser of anything, whether a pen-knife or a parcel of real estate, is an American, he will double the price.

An American friend of mine was attracted by a building lot in the Vedado and rashly entered into negotiations with the owner. The best figure he could obtain was $20,000. He turned the matter over to a Cuban agent; a few weeks later the deal was closed on the payment of $12,500. How much he actually paid will never be known to the gentleman who is now erecting a residence on it.

A gentleman and his wife and two children. lived two months in a Havana hotel and were charged for their accommodations $1,500. The following season he rented a house, retained the services of a housekeeper, chef, and two servants; he revelled in all the culinary luxuries which the Havana markets afford, and his total expenses for four months did not reach $1,000. A bachelor acquaintance lives luxuriously in a four-room apartment presided over by two servants, and his monthly expenses are less than $120. He could not obtain the same service in a hotel for five times the amount.

The one cheap thing in Havana is the cab service. The toll for one continuous ride between any two points in the city is about fifteen cents in American money. Moreover, the Havana coach is a luxurious victoria instead of the clumsy two-wheeled cab with which we are familiar, and for which we are charged from a dollar to five dollars, according to the avarice of the cabman and the victim's patience. Yet the Havana driver makes from six to ten dollars a day, and I doubt if the average New York or Chicago street pirate is more successful.

The country for miles to the east, west, and south of Havana is rapidly becoming a paradise for owners of motor cars. Road building is easy of accomplishment in most sections of Cuba, and already there are completed hundreds of miles of smooth drives along which one can spin for hours beneath the plumage of parallel rows of royal palms. It is impossible to compare the country and its inhabitants with other lands frequented by tourists. It has a distinct individuality, and as one glides through the little Cuban towns and villages the thought intrudes itself that the encroaching tide of outside capital and immigration is inevitably destined to change, if not obliterate, customs and conditions which are picturesque if profitless. Factories will rear their walls on the outskirts of these quiet and lazy hamlets, and the sons and daughters of the Cubanos will obey the call of a bell or whistle and exchange their bare-footed liberty for wages. Electric and steam roads will invade every part of the island, the soil will be attacked for its wonderful treasures of crop and fruit, and the Old Cuba will gradually become a memory. It will make place for a Cuba dominated not by sentiment and tradition but by the exigencies of profits and dividends.

T

HE population of the United States. during the nineteenth century more than doubled every thirty years, even in those periods within which fell our destructive Civil War. At the end of that century it had reached 76,000,000. If the present large influx of foreigners continue and the natural growth of our population also go on at its usual rate, our population by 1925 will doubtless reach the high figure of 130,000,000.

Those who are familiar with the deplorable conditions that even now prevail in many large cities realize how appalling will be the consequences if 54,000,000 should be added to our population. The country districts. will not retain their proportionate share of this increase but will continue to crowd into the cities.

THE ISOLATION OF FARM HOUSES

When Congress, by the Preemption act of 1841; by the Homestead act of 1862; by the Timber Culture act of 1873, and by other acts in line with these, opened our vast domain to settlers and gave them its fertile lands practically free, it conferred inestimable benefits upon millions of people. But when the But when the pioneers took possession of these lands, they imprudently created conditions which generations will vainly try to improve.

In all the countries of Europe the agricultural population lives in villages. Isolated farm houses are the exception. The early New England settlers also resided in villages, for mutual protection against the Indians and for social reasons. But their descendants who during the last century settled newly opened territory, felt no such need and committed the monumental blunder of isolating themselves. Instead of uniting in villages in which could reside also the help needed on the surrounding farms, these settlers built their homes on farms remote from each other. They thereby doomed

themselves and their successors to that isolation which has ever since been the bane of farm life in the many districts settled in this thoughtless way.

There are hundreds of counties, distributed over many states of the Union, in each of which a hundred or more attractive hamlets could have been established with little effort and with the result of lessening the privations of farm life. Yet many of these remained without a single hamlet or village, save the county-seat, until a line of railroad brought a chain of stations.

Public lands were granted in 40, 80, and 160-acre tracts. At the centre of each sectional crossing, four quarter-sections meet. Suppose that the owners of the quarter-sections thus cornering had placed their farm buildings near the common corner instead of placing them in remote parts of their farms. And suppose that a tract of a few acres, with the common section corner as its centre, had been made a park and therein had been located a meeting-house or the district schoolhouse, and that within every such hamlet the farmers had erected a few cottages for the use of the farm help of the neighborhood-how many families now huddled in city tenements would have found homes in the country! What a difference it would have made in the long winter months when time hangs with indescribable heaviness!

NO DWELLINGS FOR MARRIED LABORERS

When we dispensed with the farm village, we made it impossible for a married farm laborer to reside near the place of his employment. One searches almost in vain for farms with an extra cottage for the use of married help, and so our best agricultural states are practically closed to heads of families who lack means for either purchasing or leasing a farm, or who are unwilling to separate them