[Gutenberg 45995] • Our Little Porto Rican Cousin

It is a beautiful May day. The air is still, yet clear; the sun is shining brightly, but it is not too warm for comfort. There is not a cloud in the sky. And yet lazy little Manuel lies curled up in his comfortable bed, sound asleep at eight o'clock in the morning. See! A smile lights up his face. Perhaps he is dreaming of his newly adopted American brothers. Of the things he has read about, he longs to see a real New England snow-storm most of all. To built a snow fort, to make balls of snow and have a mock battle, what fun it must be! To slide down the icy hills, to ride over the snowy roads to the jingle of the sleigh-bells, -surely there is nothing in his island home to equal sport like that. And so in his dreams our little Manuel takes part in games he cannot play while awake, until they at last become quite real to him