COFFEE. 



ANNA R. HENDERSON. 



COFFEE is a native of Abyssinia, 

 being first used by the natives 

 of the district called Kaffa, 

 whence its name. It is still 

 found wild in parts of Africa. 



It was introduced into Arabia in the 

 fifteenth century, and is so well suited 

 to that soil and climate that the Mocha 

 coffee has never been excelled. It 

 became so popular that in 1638 the 

 Mohammedan priests issued an edict 

 against it, as the faithful frequented 

 the coffee shops more than the mosques. 



In 1638 the beverage was sold in Paris, 

 but did not win favor for a few years 

 until it was introduced to the aristoc- 

 racy by Soliman Aga, the Ambassador 

 of the Sublime Porte at the Court of 

 Louis XIV. Coffee sipping became 

 fashionable, and before the middle of 

 the seventeenth century was the mode 

 in all the capitals of Europe. 



Cromwell ordered the closing of the 

 coffee shops of England, but its popu- 

 larity did not wane. 



In 1699 coffee was planted in Batavia 

 and Java. In 1720 three coffee shrubs 

 were sent from the Jardin des Plantes in 

 France to the Island of Martinique. 



The voyage was long, and water be- 

 coming scarce two of the plants per- 

 ished, but Captain Declieux shared his 

 ration of water with the other plant, 

 and it lived to become the ancestor of 

 all the coffee groves in America. 



On the coat of arms of Brazil which 

 adorns every flag of that country is a 

 branch of coffee, a fit emblem, as Bra- 

 zil produces three-fourths of the coffee 

 of the world. It was first planted there 

 in 1754, and the first cargo was shipped 

 to the United States in 1809. 



It can be grown from seeds or from 

 slips. Shrubs begin bearing the sec- 

 ond or third year, and are profitable 

 for fifteen years, some trees continue 

 bearing for twenty five years. 



They are planted six or eight feet 

 apart, and not allowed to grow more 

 than twelve feet high; and are not 

 pruned, so that the limbs bend nearly 

 to the ground. The long slender droop- 



ing branches bear dark green, glossy 

 leaves, directly opposite to each other. 

 Between these leaves bloom the flow- 

 ers; clusters of five or six white star- 

 shaped blossoms, each an inch in diam- 

 eter. These jessamine-like flowers 

 touch each other, forming a long snowy 

 spray bordered with green. Nothing 

 can exceed the beauty of a coffee 

 grove in bloom, and its fragrance 

 makes it a veritable Eden. 



It is beautiful again when the berries 

 are ripe. They resemble a large cran- 

 berry, each berry containing two grains, 

 the flat sides together. The fruit is 

 slightly sweet but not desirable. Three 

 crops are gathered in one year. I have 

 in memory a coffee plantation in the 

 mountains of Brazil, where the pickers 

 were African slaves. They made a 

 picturesque sight, picking into white 

 sacks swung in front of them, occasion- 

 ally emptying the fruit into broad, flat 

 baskets. Each man will pick more 

 than thirty pounds a day, and at sunset 

 they wind down the mountain paths 

 with their broad baskets of red berries 

 balanced on their heads. 



The ripe fruit is put through a mill 

 which removes the pulp. The wet 

 berries are then spread to dry in the 

 sun on a floor of hardened earth, brick 

 or slate. 



The coffee terrane in my memory 

 was about eighty feet square, laid with 

 smooth slate, and slightly sloping. It 

 had around it a moulding of plaster 

 with spaces of perforated zinc for the 

 escape of water. Orange and fig trees 

 dropped their fruit over its border and 

 it was an ideal spot for a moonlight 

 dance. The coffee house was near, 

 and an approaching cloud was a signal 

 to gather the coffee in. 



When dr)' the grains are put through 

 a mill, or where primitive methods pre- 

 vail, pounded in a mortar to remove a 

 thin brittle shell v^hich encloses each 

 grain. The coffee is then put into 

 sacks of five arrobas, or 160 pounds 

 each and carted to the warehouses of 

 the city. 



197 



