Vignettes of life in Cojimar, a small and closely knit village across the bay and a trolley car's ride away from Havana, these came into being after the author and his wife rented a house there for a season. They found it through the help of a bartender and once there, with a penchant for getting himself involved with people, Mr. Rodriguez continues to describe Cojimar in its gayer and more exciting moments. The first of these comes when the town scholar extends an invitation to the wake of his cook, a party which lasts two days. They continue into a round of local gossip and mistaken love affairs, of cook-fights and lottery tickets and a land run caused by the digging up of a 17th century royal decree commending the Cojimeros for dispatching the pirate Morgan. All is vivid and voluble. But amidst the color and the conversation one searches, in vain, for the disinterested observation of situation and character that might have softened the tones and made a better balance. As it stands the narrative is cacophonous and displays a predominantly selfish interest in its subject.