A friend told me of a shameful instance of injustice connected with these lotteries.  A poor slave who had saved enough money to buy a ticket, did so; and, drawing a small prize, immediately went off to his master, and presented it to him as a part of his redemption-money.  The master having ascertained how he obtained it, explained to him that, as a slave, he could not hold property; he then quietly pocketed it, and sent poor Sambo about his business.  What a beautiful commentary this is on the law respecting Coartados, which I inserted a few pages back.  I must, however, remark that, from the inquiries I made, and from my own observations of their countenances and amusements, the impression left on my mind is, that the slaves are quite as happy here as in the United States; the only disadvantage that they labour under being, that the sugar harvest and manufacture last much longer in Cuba, and the labour thereof is by far the hardest drain upon the endurance of the slave.  The free negroes I consider fully as well off as those in the Southern States, and immeasurably more comfortable than those who are domiciled in the Northern or Free States of the Union.  The number of free negroes in Cuba amounts to one-fourth of the whole coloured population, while in the United States it only amounts to one-ninth—­proving the great facilities for obtaining freedom which the island offers, or the higher cultivation of the negro, which makes him strive for it more laboriously.  I will not attempt to draw any comparison between the scenes of horror with which, doubtless, both parties are chargeable, but which, for obvious reasons, are carefully concealed from the traveller’s eye.

Among the curious anomalies of some people, is that of a dislike to be called by the national name, if they have a local one.  The islanders feel quite affronted if you call them Espanoles; and a native of Old Spain would feel even more affronted if you called him a Cubano or an Havanero.  The appellations are as mutually offensive as were in the olden times those of Southron and Scot, although Cuba is eternally making a boast of her loyalty.  The manner of a Cuban is as stiff and hidalgoish as that of any old Spaniard; in fact, so far as my short acquaintance with the mother country and the colony enables me to judge, I see little or no difference.  Some of them, however, have a dash of fun about them, as the two following little squibs will show.

It appears that a certain Conde de ——­, who had lately been decorated, was a most notorious rogue; in consequence of which, some wag chalked up on his door in large letters, during the night, the following lines, which, of course, were in everybody’s mouth soon after the sun had risen:—­

  En el tiempo de las barbaras naciones
  A los ladrones se les colgaban en cruces;
  Pero hoy en el siglo de las luces
  A los ladrones se les cuelgan cruces.

A play upon words is at all times a hopeless task to transfer to another language; nevertheless, for the benefit of those who are unacquainted with Spanish, I will convey the idea as well as I can in English;—­