books obtainable, and the distances are not great.  A cup of cafe con leche should precede the excursion.  If one feels lazy, as one is quite apt to feel in the tropics and the sub-tropics, fairly comfortable open carriages are at all times available.  With them, of course, a greater area can be covered and more places seen, though perhaps seen less satisfactorily.  There is much to be seen in the early morning that is best seen in those hours, and much that is not seen later in the day.  In all cities there is an early morning life and Havana is no exception.  I confess to only a limited personal knowledge of it, but I have seen enough of it, and heard enough about it, to know that the waking-up of cities, including Havana, is an interesting process.  I have, at least, had enough personal experience to be sure that the early morning air is delicious, the best of the day.  I am not speaking of the unholy hours preceding daybreak, but of six to eight o’clock, which for those of us who are inclined to long evenings is also the best time to be in bed.  The early morning church bells are a disturbance to which visitors do not readily adjust their morning naps.  Mr. Samuel Hazard, who visited Cuba about the year 1870, and wrote quite entertainingly about it, left the following description of his experience in Havana: 

“Hardly has the day begun to break when the newly arrived traveller is startled from his delightful morning doze by the alarming sound of bells ringing from every part of the town.  Without any particular concert of action, and with very different sounds, they ring out on the still morning air, as though for a general conflagration, and the unfortunate traveller rushes frantically from his bed to inquire if there is any hope of safety from the flames which he imagines, from the noise made, must threaten the whole town.  Imagine, O reader! in thy native town, every square with its church, every church with its tower, or maybe two or three of them, and in each particular tower a half-dozen large bells, no two of which sound alike; place the bell-ropes in the hands of some frantic man who pulls away, first with one hand and then the other, and you will get a very faint idea of your first awakening in Havana.  Without apparent rhyme or reason, ding, dong, ding they go, every bell-ringer at each different church striving to see how much noise he can make, under the plea of bringing the faithful to their prayers at the early morning mass.”

[Illustration:  BALCONIES IN OLD HAVANA STREET IN HAVANA]

The only conceivable advantage of these early bells is the fact that they turn out many a traveller at the hour when Havana is really at its best.  Yet, as I read the descriptive tales left by those who wrote forty, fifty, and sixty years ago, I am struck by the fact, that, after all, the old Havana has changed but little.  There are trolley lines, electric lights, and a few other so-called modern improvements,