Francisco awoke very early the next morning, for he was unaccustomed to sleeping away from home. He lay quite still listening to the unwonted sounds. He heard the servants scrubbing the marble floors of the patio and corridors; he heard the call of the panadero[8] and the hurrying feet to answer; for no private family ever bakes its own bread in Argentina, and the bakers have it all their own way, which isn't a very bad way since their bread is light and deliciously crisp; he heard the chattering of the parrots and paroquets in the servants' patio; then the clatter of a squad of mounted policemen on their way to the day's duty, the hoofs of their horses beating a tattoo of haste on the smooth asphalt still wet with the daybreak bath of the sprinkling carts.

Then he became interested in his room. Such luxury as surrounded him! He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes, for he had never viewed these bed-rooms except from the corridor, on his infrequent visits to the house. His bed was heavily carved and overhung with a canopy of pale blue plush and silk; the walls were panelled and painted in delicate colours, with angels and cherubs everywhere; huge mirrors reflected each other as they hung in their frames of Florentine gold, and after he had viewed it all for a few moments, he buried his head in his pillow and wished for his own bare room and his mother. Then he longed for Elena that she might enjoy the beauties about him; and this reminded him of the pesebre, which was still unfinished, but which he had brought with him.He wondered how he could get it to her without her finding out—and—he must have fallen into a doze, for soon he heard an imitation reveille blown through human hands, outside the closed blinds that shaded his door into the corridor, and his uncle called good-naturedly: "A pretty time for a soldier of the Republic to get up!"

Francisco hurried into his clothes and found the Colonel taking his coffee and rolls in a shaded corner of the patio.

"I am going to give you all of my time to-day, NiÑo, as I feel lazy, and I find there are many things here in your own native city that you know nothing about, and that a boy of nine should see and learn. Your mother could not be expected to do it, so it falls to me. We must start immediately, before the heat of the day drives us indoors. Get your cap, lad, and we will start over in the Plaza San MartÍn opposite, and have a lesson in history."They donned their hats, and Francisco felt very proud to walk beside his uncle, who, if not a very large man in stature, loomed up big before the boy's worshipful eyes.

"What do you know of Buenos Aires, NiÑo?" he asked as they sauntered towards the centre of the park.

"Not much, Uncle Juan. I know it is the largest city on the South American continent, and that it has over one million inhabitants. My teacher said once that it is one of the largest produce markets in the world."

"Yes, and there is much more. It is the largest Spanish speaking city in the world, as it is twice as large as Madrid, the capital of Spain. But it is also very cosmopolitan."

"I don't think I know just what that means, Uncle Juan."

"Cosmopolitan? Why that, in this case, means that there are many nationalities represented in Buenos Aires. There are thousands of Italians, Germans, Frenchmen, Englishmen and Russians; and one can hear half a dozen different languages in an hour's time walking along the streets. But, to-day, I want to start with a little history of our country. So let us sit here on this bench and begin. At this early hour we will not be disturbed."

They sat down almost under the shadow of the high statue of San MartÍn and the Colonel reverently uncovered his head. Without being told, Francisco took off his cap, and his uncle patted him affectionately on the back. "Good, good, my boy! He deserves it, for no greater soldier ever fought; but we will have to go back several centuries to get the run of things," and as he leaned back he paused and puffed thin clouds of smoke from his cigarette.

"You see, when Buenos Aires was really founded, it was in 1580, sixty-four years after the River Plate was discovered by Solis, who called it the River of Silver, because he believed silver could be found on its banks. They called the city 'Good Airs,' because of the fresh, invigorating quality of the air that blew over from the vast prairies. This first settlement grew, and others farther into the interior sprang from it; all of them Spanish settlements; and in 1661 the King of Spain recognized them as a colony and appointed a governor. Thus it continued until in 1806, when England was at war with Spain, and they sent Lord Beresford, with several thousand men, down to this colony to take possession of it.

"Buenos Aires then, as now, was the key to the entire country, and as it had but forty thousand inhabitants, and was without any military defence, he took it without trouble. But the Spaniards, at last, overcame him; and he was obliged to give up his prize and leave. England then sent another army, but this time the natives were prepared, and their victory was complete. General Whitelock, in command, capitulated, and his flag, the flag of the famous Seventy-First Regiment of the British army, hangs in the Cathedral over yonder, where you see the double spires beyond the house-tops. We are justly proud of that flag, for that Seventy-First Regiment is the one that caused Napoleon no end of trouble in Egypt.

"After this victory our people began to feel the stirrings of independence from Spain itself, and a spirit of revolution took hold of the officials and people. At last, an open revolt took place in the Plaza Mayo, on the twenty-fifth day of May, 1810, and under the leadership of splendid men—patriots all of them—our independence was declared.

"But this was only the first step, just as it was with the great republic of the United States when on the fourth of July they declared their independence from England. So our twenty-fifth of May was but the beginning of a long struggle. A Junta was formed to govern, but it was no easy task. To the north were Uruguay, Paraguay and Bolivia; to the west Chile and PerÚ; all Spanish colonies. The Junta sent troops to these countries to endeavour to arouse the people to throw off the yoke. They sent General Belgrano to—"

"Oh! Belgrano! I know about him, Uncle. His tomb is in the little square in front of the church in Calle Defensa, and it was he who originated our flag. He said the long blue bars were to represent our faithfulness, as true as the beautiful blue of our skies; and the white bar was to symbolize our honour, spotless and fair."

"Yes. Well, he went first to Paraguay; but the Spaniards had so intermarried with the Paraguayan Indians, whom they had found in that wild country, that they did not respond to the stirring appeal of General Belgrano. He, however, succeeded in some of the northern provinces, and thus encouraged, they organized a small navy. Do you know who was our first admiral? No? Well, it was an Englishman and his name was William Brown.

"With this navy, Montivideo, the capital of Uruguay, was taken. Enthusiasm ran high, and it was just here that Don JosÉ de San MartÍn came into the light of publicity, as commander-in-chief of the army. Now let us take the automobile, awaiting us over in front of the house, and ride to the Cathedral where the remains of our hero rest, and I will tell you more about him there."

They rode along the clean streets, the fresh morning air blowing straight into their faces, the curious, sing-song cries of the street venders following them as they sped along Calle Florida.

"Uncle Juan, why is it that most of these street peddlers are Italians? See, there goes an onion-man with his long strings of onions, their stalks knit together into yard lengths; there is a vegetable cart; there is a vender of fruit, and all of them speaking broken Spanish with an Italian accent."

"Yes, NiÑo, most of the peddlers are Italian. I do not know why, unless it is that each nationality turns to a special kind of work in this world. The Italians are naturally merchants, they like to bargain. They are also very fine mechanics. Did you ever notice that our plasterers, or masons, who plaster the outside and inside of all our houses, speak Italian?"

"And that group of men on the corner, see, Uncle, they are all dressed alike, and must be of the same nationality; what are they?"

"Those"—indicating half a dozen men wearing full trousers held up by red sashes, adorned with dozens of coins, their heads covered with round full caps also red. "Those are Basques or Vascongados. There are many here, and they come from a small piece of country to the west end of the Pyrenees, in Spain, bordering the Bay of Biscay. Like the Italians, they, too, follow the work best suited to them, and they are mostly porters, because of their physical strength and powers of endurance.

"I have noticed, too, that the majority of our milk men are Basques, and I account for that because in their native home they are a pastoral people and such pursuits attract them. Listen as we pass: their language is unintelligible to us although they come from Spain. It is unlike any other European language."

They were now entering the great square called Plaza Mayo. It is the heart of the city, although it is not in the centre. It covers about ten acres, and is two blocks back from the muddy La Plata River; and scores of masts and smoke-belching funnels of great ocean vessels can be seen from its benches.

"That is our Government House. That much I know," said Francisco, pointing to the rose-tinted building, modelled after the Tuileries, and facing the plaza. From its rear to the river intervened grass plots and groves of sturdy palmettoes.

"Yes, that is where our Senate convenes and where all the business of the Republic is done. The President has his offices there, and all the public receptions are held there. You see, our government does not provide a home for our President; that, he must look after himself. Why, we are just in time to see His Excellency now."

There was a clatter of hoofs under the wide porte-cochere and a smart closed coupe drew up before the side entrance. The liveried footman with a cockade of blue and white (the Argentine colours) in his high hat sprang to the ground and opened the door. A man, slightly above the usual Argentine height, quite handsome, with pure Castilian features, and dressed in afternoon garb of tall silk hat and frock coat, got out, and walked spryly up the wide stone steps, past the sentries in scarlet and green, into the vestibule.

"Do you know him, Uncle Juan?" asked Francisco, with awe in his voice.

"SeÑor Alcorta, El Presidente, is a warm friend of mine," replied the Colonel, and as he said it he grew fully half a foot in his nephew's estimation.

"A warm friend? Do tell me about him."

"Another time, NiÑo, we must hasten to yonder Cathedral; but he is a good man and a good President."

They turned towards the enormous building, shaped like the Pantheon with its blue tile-covered cupola, and its long portico supported by huge Corinthian columns.

It was built by the Jesuits in the seventeenth century and hundreds of Indians were employed by these pioneer fathers, in its construction. Like all houses in Buenos Aires, it is of masonry untinted except by years. With the Bishop's palace next to it, it covers an acre of ground.

Francisco and his uncle entered it and crossing themselves, knelt on the bare stone floor, for like most Argentines, they were Catholics, and this was their greatest cathedral. After a few minutes spent in devotion, the Colonel led the way to one of the naves, where the tomb of the great liberator, San MartÍn, stands, a huge sarcophagus upon a high pedestal of marble. The Colonel stood in meditation a moment, then drew the boy beside him on a bench. In a low voice he said:

"Francisco, San MartÍn, the father of our country, was not only a great general, but he was also a remarkable organizer, for his troops were composed mainly of gauchos of the wild uncivilized kind, who were not easily trained or drilled. It was he who originated the plan of crossing the Andes and liberating Chile and PerÚ from the Spanish yoke.

"With his army of five thousand men, and in the face of public derision, for the undertaking seemed impossible, he crossed the rugged Cordilleras in twenty-five days; met the Spanish general in charge of Chile and defeated him. He was thus the liberator of the Chilean people, for that battle on the twelfth of February, 1817, gave them their independence from Spain. In Santiago, Chile, there is a statue to General San MartÍn, and one to the city of Buenos Aires. After his wonderful achievement in crushing the power of Spain, in Argentina, Chile and PerÚ, he retired to private life, refusing to serve in any civil capacity.

"Following this revolutionary triumph, Brazil waged war with the Argentine Republic over the disposition of Uruguay. After three years, they agreed on its independence. This was followed by a dictatorship lasting twenty years, that was a period of the greatest tyranny in our history. Don Juan Manuel Ortiz de Rosas, at the head of a powerful troop of half savage gauchos, appeared on the political stage, and literally wrested the reins of government from Dorrego, who held them.

"Some time you will read in history of his twenty years of despotism. It was during this reign that my father, your maternal grandfather, lost his life in the blockade of Argentine ports, by French and English forces. Rosas was at last overthrown by General Urquiza, who organized the government upon its first solid basis, with a constitution modelled closely after that of the United States of North America. Since then, although we have had a few revolutions and several financial crises, we have maintained our freedom; and our wonderful natural resources and our rapid commercial development are giving us a stable place in the world's congress of nations."

Francisco listened attentively, and when his uncle concluded, followed him out a side entrance into the street, like one in a dream. They stepped into the Calle BartolomÉ Mitre, which seemed congested with a torrent of vehicles pouring down its narrow channel like a noisy stream and discharging itself into the great Plaza in front of the Cathedral.

"What if San MartÍn could see this now?" ventured Francisco, still under the spell of the hero's achievements. "Wouldn't he open his eyes?"

"Yes, lad, the growth of this city has been phenomenal, and this afternoon I will show you more of it. Why, you're not homesick, are you?" he asked, noticing the far away look in the boy's eyes as they sped along the Avenida.

"Not exactly, but I would like to see Elena, and find out how she is to-day."

"Why, bless my heart! I had forgotten the sick sister. We will go past thy mother's house and if the little rose is well enough this afternoon, we shall include her in our ride in the city."

[8] Baker.