We made several expeditions from the capital, visiting Matanzas, where we stayed at the Golden Lion, a pleasant hotel, and were shown the sights by Mr. Hall, the American Consul. The visit to the great caves whose entrance lies three hundred feet below the earth’s surface made a deep impression upon me. The stalactites hanging from the roof of the cavern, the stalagmites rising from the floor to meet them, were of the color and texture of yellow alabaster. I dreamed so often of this cavern that it is now inextricably confused with my childish ideas of Aladdin’s Cave. At Matanzas we saw a large plantation worked by Chinese coolies whose condition, little better than slaves, roused my father’s indignation. Of an expedition to Toledo Marinao I remember little save the visit to the sugar factory. The slender record of my journal says: “Our _cicerone_ was kind Mr. Salmon. We saw a great many Chinese, as well as negro slaves; the former are much the best workers and are, I believe, more valuable. We saw the whole process of sugar-making, from the grinding of the cane to the final packing of the white sugar.” Our departure from “the Havana” was hastened by an incident, for which I was to blame. I accompanied my father on a visit to the prison. Here we saw huddled together in a miserable cell a group of boys of about my own age; one indeed was much younger, being only fourteen years old. These poor lads were under a sentence of death for a trifling offense, the desecration of the grave of some official who had oppressed the people. The boys had broken or overturned the tombstone on one of the Cuban holidays, as their part of a political demonstration against the tyranical Spanish officialdom. I was so much wrought up over the fate of these youths that I talked unguardedly about them to my friends and later managed to send to the prison a gift of tobacco and fruit. In consequence of this expression of sympathy, my father received a warning from the Cuban authorities, and without waiting for a second hint, he bundled us out of Cuba and over to Key West, much to my regret. Havana, with its bullfights, cock fights, Spanish officers, languid beauties, water ices, and guava marmalade, was an attractive place to a young traveler on her first journey! My journal reads: Key West, May 9, 1873. Arrived here at about five A.M., after a nearly sleepless and utterly wretched night. Passed the flagship _Worcester_ and three other navy ships, the _Canandaigua_, _Bache_ and _Terror_. Papa had important business with Admiral Lee, and we were very much afraid the flagship was about to sail as she was getting up steam. It proved she was only coming up to the wharf. Papa was much relieved.