"See that long, coarse grass stretching as far as the eye can reach; it is the finest pasture land in the world and explains why we produce such quantities of cattle, sheep and horses. You see, having this excellent pasture-land, so well watered, and a climate that insures grazing the whole year through, our expenses for raising and rearing cattle are very low. We are a larger country than we appear on the map, my boy. Why! we are twelve times as large as Great Britain."
"Uncle, as we have so many things that are the largest and best in the world, tell me, is this the longest railroad on the earth?"
"No, Niño, not quite that. Our railroads are developing our country at a rapid rate and we have some of the finest road beds in the world, but that is because our country is so level. Now that I think of it, we have got something connected with railroads that is interesting. We have the longest straight stretch of railway in the world, it is said. On the Argentine Pacific Railway from Buenos Aires to the Andes it runs like a surveyor's line two hundred and eleven miles without deviating a foot. But come, let us go into the dining car for breakfast; it is already half-past eleven."
This was Francisco's greatest surprise of all in a long list of the day's surprises. To eat in a railway car, speeding fifty miles an hour, with delicate china and napery, shining silver and food like he had been having daily at his uncle's table, seemed too wonderful to be true.
[Footnote 11: How beautiful! How lovely!]
"LEVANTESE! Levantese!" came José's voice to Francisco's ear, just as the latter was lassoing a llama he had been pursuing on the back of an ostrich.
Francisco rubbed his eyes and woke from his dream to a babel of voices, and the train was not in motion. Where could he be?
As he rubbed his sleepy eyes again his uncle took him gently by the shoulder.
"Wake yourself, Niño. We are in Rosario; come, follow me."
Francisco followed him through the long hall of the compartment car out into the big station where insistent porters and shouting cab-men made frantic grabs at them and their baggage, only to be beaten off by José, whose language as he scolded and berated them was not what is known as "polite Spanish."