Is it any wonder that the peasant groans under the load? It is true that he works intermittently and loafs unnecessarily, but that is no good reason why his last dollar should be squeezed out of him, and, if he earned more, he would probably invite heavier taxation. He has no encouragement to exert himself beyond the needs of the present hour. He is probably occupying land that he may be required to vacate to-morrow. He can find no better market for his produce than the precarious one of the adjacent village. Enterprise is an invitation to the spoilers of the capital and the petty officials of his locality. If you should ask his candid opinion, it would be that conditions are no better than they were under Spain, and perhaps not quite as good. You may attempt to relieve his depression by a reminder of his splendid independence. He will not understand what you are talking about, although he is far from being a dullard. He fought in the wars of independence because he was assured that success would mean a full stomach and perchance the ownership of a scrap of land. It resulted in neither and, unless restrained by scepticism, he would fight again, under any banner, for the same promise. Independence _per se_ is of no more value to him than a cocoanut husk. He can not eat it and it will not buy calico for his woman. The only class of Cubans that is waxing fat and living in contentment is that composed of the office-holders,--the professional politicians. They toil not, but they reap with prodigious assiduity. They fill easy jobs on extravagant salaries and try to persuade the country that they are performing extremely difficult and important tasks. Their sole interest and concern is to fill their pockets with as little exertion as need be. The welfare of the people is a matter of no consideration to them. The only fly in their ointment is the fact that they can not all be in office at the same time, and so the “ins” are disturbed by the uncomfortable knowledge that the “outs” are constantly scheming to oust them. The peasant has entirely lost whatever faith he may have had in the politician. The man who pulled the chestnuts out of the fire is growing impatient of supporting a lot of unnecessary office-holders. The peasant is supine to a shameful degree, but there is a limit to his forbearance, and it has almost been reached. He is ripe to serve the purposes of any agitators--any one who will offer a fair prospect of changed conditions.