File:Six and one abroad (1914) (14804356173).jpg

Identifier: sixoneabroad00thom (find matches)
Title: Six and one abroad
Year: 1914 (1910s)
Authors: Thomas, Sidney J., 1868-
Subjects:
Publisher: (Austin, Tex.) Printed by E.L. Steck
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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t car line along the shore. There are 18,000,000 people in Spain; of these only 6,000are protestants. (Diary of Doctors, page 172.) Seventy-fiveper cent of them can neither read nor write. They need toknock around a little; to travel; to spread out and let the sun-shine in; they need pepper, soap and school books, railroadsand mules, machinery and electricity; to eliminate the jack-ass and trade off a few hundred thousand peacock-y soldiersfor a hundred occidental school teachers, their lazy guitars for 26 Six and One Abroad lively cornets, their bull fights for base-ball, and cross up thosebeautiful women with a strain of western blood; and the re-sult would be a regenerated Spain, a renaissance of her formerstatus as a first-rate power and people. Cadiz smells bad. It has a disagreeable odor like the back-door of a restaurant, and it was a relief always to file out ofthe shady gufehes to the quay and get a whiff of fresh air. For these and other reasons I was not sorry when the time
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OUR TRAIN FROM CADIZ TO SEVILLE. came to board the train for Seville, a larger and better city,ninety-five miles inland. And what a train! The engine about the size of an Ameri-can switch engine; without a bell or cowcatcher; the passengercoaches no longer than twelve feet and capable of holding intheir two compartments less than two moderate-sized families. A gong sounds, a boj^ goes up and down the platform ringinga bell, the engine crows like a rooster, and we are off. Oh,goodness gracious; are we on a sure enough railroad train ? It In Southern Spain is hard to believe it, for it does not look like one, neither doesit feel like one, and the qneer thing rocks like an omnibus overa pavement. There is no stove, no water, no toilet on the wholetrain, and under our feet a funny little galvanized iron flounderof hot water for a heating system. No stations are called and we rattle along at the rate of abouttwenty miles an hour, passing first the ruins of a Roman aque-duct and a fine Roma

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