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Updated: May 23, 2025
"Ah!" sighs the wearer, "I feel suffocate on dthis boat it ees so small, people eferywhere and you and I so leedle alone. Ah, ve vill soon be at San José!" "I don't see how that will mend matters." I am anxious to see what he has in mind. "Madame Steele vant to go to Guatemala." "Yes, but so do most of the other passengers."
But to me, a dreamer of dreams, To whom what is and what seems Are often one and the same, The Bells of San Blas to me Have a strange wild melody, And are something more than a name." "Ah, vas I not right, Madame Steele? I vill learn zo beautiful Eenglish on dthis voyage." On the fifth day out from San Francisco we make the harbour of Mazatlan, on the Mexican coast.
Steele looks greatly astonished. "Not so fery! Dthis train go soon; I must zay gude-bye. Here ees dthe leedle carve spoon from Escuintla you zay you like. I haf had much plaisir to know you, Madame. Gude-bye!" He holds out his shapely white hand and Mrs. Steele takes it warmly. "Indeed, Baron, I'm quite breathless with surprise, and really very sorry to lose you.
"You vill zee dthree volcano near Guatemala; dthey air dthe 'spirits' of dthe place call in Eenglish 'Air, 'Fire' and 'Vater. Zee on dthis leedle coin dthey haf all dthree mountains on dthe back." "Why, what's the matter with your hands?" I say, taking the coin.
"From San José to Guatemala ees seventy mile, and dthe Paris of Central America ees zomething more large dthan dthis San Miguel. Much can happen before ve come back." We join Mrs. Steele and talk over our plan. The next day we arrive at Champerico, but no one goes ashore; we stay so short a time.
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