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BY A STTLER
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441
YZICHARDB.KIMBALL
AUTHOR OF
A\,.    "St. Leger," "Undercurrents," &o.
FOURTH EDITION.
NEW YORK:
Carleton, Publisker.
LONDON: BENTLEY
4   M.~DCCCI XIII.
h~~~~~



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863,
BY GEORGE W. CARLETON,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the
Southern District of New York.
If CREA & MILLER, STEREOTYPERS.   C. A. ALVORD, PRINTER.




INTRODUCTORY NOTICE.
BY THE AUTHOR OF " ST. LEGER."
WE cannot advise any mere man or woman of
fashion, young or old, to take up this volume.
Neither the one nor the other will be interested
in it, for neither will have the taste to appreciate
its contents, unless perchance some such person,
in a moment of ennui, should be attracted by the
freshness of the descriptions and the novelty of the
scenes to run through its pages; as a reigning belle
sometimes stops to regard, with a mixture of envy
and admiration, the natural bloom which mantles
the cheek of a fine, unsophisticated country girl:
but this is exceptional.
There are those who will peruse this book with
pleasure and satisfaction. Whoever loves garden,
and grove, and shrub, and vine, finding enjoyment in
all the gifts of our kindly mother earth, will lay hold
of it with avidity. Such will be pleased to learn




4       INTRODUCTORY  NOTICE.
what Nature-not the stern old parent of our North,
but Nature young and prodigal and Eden-like,
brings forth in the charmed circle of her tropical
home. These have taste and a fine appreciation,
and, we may hope, the opportunity to gratify both.
To another class still, this work will specially
commend itself; to that class-alas! its members
are numerous-who yearn after the happiness of a
home without means or the hope of means to acquire
on e; who have become wearied and discouraged by
years of incessant effort and overwork, without
any prospect of breaking the fetters which bind
them to their destiny, and which are forged but
too securely. They will find a way of escape by
perusing this romantic, but truthful, narrative.
" In the Tropics" is the twelve-month record of
a young man who for a number of years was a
clerk in a large mercantile establishment in this
city. Finding that without friends or capital it
was nearly, or, as it seemed to him, quite impossible ever to accomplish any thing on his own
account, and that he was becoming daily more




INTRODUCTORY  NOTICE..
unfitted for any other occupation; warned too
by the misfortunes of an elder brother, he resolved
to quit the city, while health and vigor still remained to him, and seek a home elsewhere. He
gives his reasons for deciding to go to Santo
Domingo, and this volume is the history of his
first twelvemonth's experience in that island,
being brought down to the 1st of January of the
present year.
The work is written with a simplicity absolutely fascinating, reminding one of the finer
passages of Defoe.  The record of his daily
routine on his little estancia of forty acres
is -so minute in detail, and so interesting by its
freshness, that we find ourselves unconsciously
sharing all the hopes and fears of the young.
American farmer. We are anxious about the
success of every experiment, and rejoice at every
turn of good fortune which befalls him.
The descriptions of the persons our hero encounters are so vividly drawn that the reader
at once feels at home with them, Don Julio




6       INTRODUCTOItY  N  TI OTI   E.
Perez becomes our friend as well as the friend
of " Sefior Vecino." We embrace Don, Delfino
again and again as we experience his fresh
acts of kindness, almost daily repeated.  The
friendly services of Juan Garcia go straight to
our heart, especially if we take into account the
active benevolence of his " lily of a wife" (black
though she be), the officious, bustling, and gossiping Anita. These worthy people seem to have
taken the " innocent lamb of a stranger" under
their special protection, and well do they perform
their trust.
To us, however, Tio Juanico is the picturesque
character of the scene. He is thus described:
" His dark Indian face, with its gentle mouth
and sadly earnest-eyes, was not uncomely, and his
shapely head, with its mass of jetty hair, was really noticeable in its fine proportions; but both his
back and breast had a peculiar and ungainly promlinence, amounting to deformity. Aside from this
he was a muscular, well-limbed man, in the
strength of his age, and, as I soon saw, as ready as




INTRODUCTOIRY  NOTICE.             7
he was capable for hard work. His voice was
strikingly clear and musical, but it had the same
expression of patient sadness which looked out of
his eyes."
Juanico becomes the servant, friend, and faithful man-Friday of the New Yorker, and makes
one of the most charming points in the volume. To
finish the picture, we have narrated with almost
ludicrous fidelity the story of the perfidious native
choppers who stole all our friend's satin-wood;
then an account of the "man Andres" and his
shrewd spouse, who were so sharp in the matter
of cocoa-nut sprouts; while the affair of the swindling mason, who attempts to take advantage of the
" Senfor's" necessities, goes to confirm the old adage,
that "human nature is pretty much the same the
world over."
But we must leave these fascinating scenes that
the reader may the more speedily enter on them.
Before we do, however, we earnestly solicit the attention of every reflecting person to this single
paragraph. Writes the young "settler:"




S       INTRODUCTORY  NOTICE.
" The mobot manly workers I have seen in this
country are white men.  Undcer the warrn sun of
the tropics, white working men and machinery
will yet open the grandest field of civilization ever
recalized."
A sermon, a lecture, a treatise are bound up in
these two sentences. Let the thoughtful reader
weigh them well.
It is proper to observe, that we received the
manuscript for this volume from  an esteemed
friend in Santo Domingo City. To us has
belonged only the agreeable task of making some
trifling revisions for the press, which the absence
of the author prevented being done in person.
NEW YORK, June, 1863.




COiNTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
How I came to leave New York.-Why I went to Santo Domingo.-The
voyage.-Arrival at the town. —Am introduced to Don Leonardo Delmon te.A hospitable reception.-Resolve to strike for the interior.-An unexpected
greeting.-An old settler.-What he advises.-Start on foot for Palenque.Visit to Don Julio Perez.-What comes of it.-I purchase a small farm and
take possession.................................................. Page 13
CHAPTER II.
JANUARY.
First night on my farm.-Happy surprise in the morning.-A singular arrival.-Resolve to turn it to account.-Engage the services of Juan and Anita
Garcia.-Tent-making.-Juan assists.-Preparations for supper by Anita.
-My new avenue.-Orange and lime groves.-An unnecessary fright.Faithfulness of Juan.-The spring grove.-My garden.-What it contains.
-How we fenced it.-American plough and other implements.-Astonishment of the natives.-The old cabin.-What I did in one month...... 82
CHAPTER III.
FEBRUARY.
A call from Don Julio Perez.-Transplanting vegetables.-Juan's curiosity.Cutting logwood.-My success in clearing.-Another visit from Don Julio.
-Agreeable result.-Washington's birthday.-How I celebrate it.-Anita's
breakfast for Don Julio and myself.-My Buena Vista.-Mysterious conference between Juan and Anita.-Preparations for an orange grove.-Juan's
amazement.-Success of my garden.................................  53




10                       CO NTE NTS.
CHAPTER IV.
I A RC H.
Fruits and flowers.-Charms of tropical life.-A visit from Juan's cousins.What they wanted.-A  strange "baptism."-Preparations for grafting.Startled by the appearance of a crowd around my tent.-The " convita."
— My "neighbors and well-wishers."-Grafting performed in presence of a
large company.-Pronounced a " miracle."-The great feast.-My address.How responded to. —Tos6 Ravela.-We resolve to make a road to Palenque.
-Don Julio's surprise.-IIe promises assistance.-The road finished.Ignorance, not industry, debasing.................................. Page 16
CHIAPTER V.
APRIL.
Ploughing-match at Don Julio's.-Stupid native.-Unrnty oxen.-An unlooked-for assistant.-Don Delfino de Castro.-Achieve a great victory.Compliments and congratulations.-Return to Buena Vista.-Important
changes.-An " Eden of tranquillity."-A guest for the night. —He proposes
to remain longer.-Camp cooking and coffee-making.-Compact with Don
Delfino.-What we do together.-His man Isidro.-Beautiful appearance
of my orange avenue.-Plentiful showers.-Fragrant blossoms.-Crowning
triumph of my garden............................................. 98
CHAPTER VI.
MAY..
Fresh encouragement.-Site for a new  house. —The Mango Avenue.-A
" trifling incident."-A rustic gate.-A shipwrecked sailor.-What in search
of.-Visit from Captain Ramirez of the "Alice."-Satisfactory solution of a
puzzling question.-A market for my vegetables.-Don Julio.-Ambitious
projects.-Picturesque scenes.-Twenty-two kinds of fruits on my homestead.-An alluring picture.-An important addition to my revenue.-I
hire two native woodmen.-The "New Field."-Grateful acknowledgments................................................... 120
CHAPTER VII.
JUNE.
Rapid growth of vegetation.-No labor equal to white labor.-What machinery
will do in the tropics.-National breads of the Island.-Description of
the casa/va and the arapa.-Indian fashion of baking.-Yuca and yams.



CON T E N  S.                            1
Delightful visit from Delfino.-He discovers a new treasure.-A spirited
discassion. —Resolve to maintain my "humble independence."''-Delfino
proposes an October banquet.-Where to come off. —Am greatly surprised.Visit to the wood-cutters.-Deifino's anger.-An unhappy discovery.-How
the difficulty is arranged. — Mahogany. — Satin-wood.-A  new  cottage
resolved on.-How it was planned........................ Page 143
CHAPTER VIII.
JULY.
My palenca. —Active preparations.-Kindness of Delfino and Don Julio.Manuel, the carpenter.-Description of my new cottage.-A sudden apparition.-Tio Juanico.-Sanchez, the lime-burner.-Jnanico's history. —Engage
him to work for me.-His mysterious disappearance. —Is he faithless?Abrupt return.-Juanico wounded. —His distress.-What I do for him.Cost of building.-The sea-brleeze.-Fourth of July, how we celebrate it.The grand feast.-Yuca and yautilia.-My corn crop.-Abounding wealth
of vegetables...................................................... 167
CIAPTER IX.
AUGUST.
A drawback not altogether surprising.-A warning to new-comers.-How I
paid for my experience.-Piantain walk.-Different varieties of bananas.My Platanal.-Industry of Juanico.-His brilliant strategy.-Felix Tisada.
-Exhibit my improvements. —Amazement of the Dominican.-A proposal.
-I take advantage of it.-Overwork myself.-Awake feverish and in pain.
-Anita's advice.-Simple remedies.-Juanico and Felix wish to call a physician.-Each knows a worthy doctor.-They disagree.-Decide to employ
neither.- My rapid recovery.-Valuable hints......................... 189
CHAPTER X.
SEPTEMBER.
Famous yield of sweet potatoes.-Contract with Captain Ramirez.-The
Captain becomes alarmed.-HIis fears quieted.-Anita's transactions with the
natives.-Cocoa-nut grove.-Its importance.-Am  in great perplexity.Juanico plays the diplomat. —Felix comes to my relief.-An amusing
scene.-A friendly contest.-Sale of the " cultivator." —What Felix undertakes.-How Felix is swindled.-My despair.-A fresh comer in the scene.
-Arrival of Rosa Dalmeyda.-Her mission.-How we arrange matters. —
Success at last......................................... 215




12                       CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XI.
OCTOBER.
Triumph of Felix.-Auspicious return of Juanico.-His unwonted gayety.How accounted for.-Don Delfino imports a Stump-Extractor.-Great
excitement in the neighborhood.-We muster our forces.-How we obtain
recruits.-The process of stump-extracting.-Anita's collation.-Private
dinner in the North Arbor.-Don Julio appears again.-Fresh attack on the
enemy.-Close of the contest.-The "'Extractor" victorious.-Delfino's
invitation.-I accept it.-His plantation.-What we do there.... Page 243
CHAPTER XII.
NOVEMBER.
Finish my visit.-Delfino surprises me.-We both return to Palenque.-Expected important arrivals.-Anita.-Fishing-day.-" Yankee Charles, of
Baltimore." —His history.-American newspapers.-The " Strangers' Rest."
-All Saints' day.-Favorable omen.-Improvise a bee-hive.-Arrival of
agricultural implements.-All grievously disappointed.-Dishonesty of the
"house" in New York.-A warning to buyers.-Juanico and his garlicbed.-Visit from  Manuel, the carpenter.-Furniture from my own mahogany grove....................................................... 261
CHAPTER XIII.
DECEMBER.
The ripening corn.-Hoe-husbandry.-Unbroken succession of crops.-Plans
for the future.-Affectionate fidelity of Juanico.-Attempt to finish my
cottage. - Dishonest mason. -- Unlooked-for disappointment. - What I
resolve to do. —Juanico's proposition.-Felix comes to my relief.-The
iime-burner.-Cottage finished.-Delfino appears suddenly.-What he insists on.-Preparations for a Christmas-tree.-Everybody to be invited.Site selected.-The company assemble.-We celebrate Christmas joyously.............................................................. 281
CHAPTER XIV.
By way of explanation............................................. 802




IN  THE  TROPICS.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY.
How I came to leave New York. —Why I went to Santo Domingo.
-Tho voyage.-Arrival at the town.-Am introduced to Don
Leonardo Delmonte. —A  hospitable reception.-Resolve  to
strike for the interior.-An unexpected greeting.-An old
settler.-What he advises.-Start on foot for Palenque.-Visit
to Don Julio Perez. —What comes of it.-I purchase a small
farm and take possession.
I was born and reared on a large farm in the heart
of the State of New York, and all my tastes are for
the independent life and tranquil occupations of the
country.  Nevertheless, it was my destiny to struggle for a livelihood several years within the crowded
walls of a city establishment, and that with so little
success, that the end of each season found me no
nearer an independence than the beginning.




1-4     LIFE   IN  ST. DOMINGO.
I had not ventured to marry on such prospects;
but my only brother had loved better, or more successfully, perhaps, and taken to himself a wife. He
had the misfortune to lose her some two years
ago, and, wearied of a series of discouraging circumstances, which seemed to create, with every
effort to improve his condition, only a fetter the
more, he proposed to seek a new home in the Far
West.
l-le has three boys, whom he desires to educate in
such a manner that they may become industrious,
self-helping, and independent men, equally removed
from boorish ignorance and elegant imbecility. As
a poor man, he did not see his way clear to accomplish this in a large city.  Among the cheap lands
and growing population of the West it was more
possible, and he warmly solicited me to move with
him in the direction of the setting sun.
I was more than willing to cast behind me the dust
of the city; but for various reasons I preferred seeking a home in some high, healthy, and. accessible
region of tropical America, to beginning anew in the




LIFE  IN  ST. D  M I N G O.          15
equally distant, more trying, and less profitable fields
of Minnesota.
After weighing all the facts before us, to the
best of our ability, we decided to cast our future
lot in Santo Domingo, as it had the advantage,
unhappily denied to the Spanish American republics,
of a stable government, at peace with all other
nations.
I volunteered to be the pioneer in the work of
finding and making ready our new home, and I set
about my preparations without delay.
I left New York on a biting, gusty morning, early
in December, and after a pleasant passage of fourteen
days, landed at Santo Domingo City, amid the balmy
air and bright verdure of a Northern June. All nature revelled in an overflowing wealth of fruits and
flowers and foliage. The people were moving about
in light summer dresses, and the store doors and
house windows were wide open to admit the fresh
sea-breeze.
The novelty, and, perhaps still more, the bright
contrast of this delicious climate with the wintry




16     LIFE  IN  ST. D  MINGO.
rigors of our northern latitudes, prepossessed me at
once, and strongly, in favor of this new country.
I remained, however, but one day in the city of
Santo Domingo. An American firm there has provided some native cottages on the heights overlooking the town, for the transient accommodation of immigrant families coming over in their vessels. In
one of these I obtained a corner of refuge for myselfand my few effects, while I cast about me for the
choice of a final abiding-place.
A Cuban gentleman, residing in New York, who
has travelled extensively in Mexico and Central
America, as well as in the West India Islands, had
recommended Santo Domingo as offering, on the
whole, more advantages to a farmer or mechanic,
emigrating from the United States, than any other
country of tropical America.
This advice confirmed me in my own opinion; so
I followed it the more readily.
Besides advice, my friend favored me with a letter of introduction to a gentleman of the name of
Delmonte, who, I soon learned, was a member of




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.               17
one of the old patrician families of the island. He
is a notary public, an office of trust and distinction
under Spanish law; and at the special request of the
official and commercial representative of the "States"
in this country, he keeps a list of the most desirable
landed properties offered for sale, for the benefit of
American immigrants in quest of homesteads.
I presented my letter, and requested his advice.
Don Leonardo Delmonte received me with the
obliging suavity of a high-bred gentleman, and freely
laid before me the details of the numerous properties he had in charge; but none of them came within
the scope of my narrow means.
They were chiefly sugar estates, or large tracts of
mahogany and logwood forests, altogether beyond
the possibility of my means of purchase, but it occurred to me that some one of them might be obtainable
on a long lease. I stated my situation frankly, and
asked Don Leonardo what he thought of the chances
of hiring a farm.
"There would be no difficulty in getting a place,"
he answered, after hearing me out with kindly atten



18      LIFE  IN  ST. D            I N GO.
tion. "But why not strike at once into the interior,
and buy a small farm on time? With the farming
implements in your possession, and your experience
in agriculture, you can pay for your land in a few
years, and meanwhile be shaping your homestead to
your taste."
~" This was my plan in coming here, but the prices
of land seem formidably high," I said, doubtingly.
"Yes, immediately around the city land is high;
but a short distance back it is almost as cheap as the
public lands of the United States."
Don Leonalrdo has studied our laws, language, and
institutions, and understands them like a native.
"What particular section of the country would you
advise me to settle in, Don Leonardo?" I asked, after
a moment's pause.
" That depends on what you propose to make the
principal feature of cultivation," he replied. "We
must reflect a little on what-all things consideredis likely to suit you best."
We stood a long time before a map of the Island
of Hayti, and, with Don Leonardo's copious notes of




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.               19
description in hand, discussed the several specialties
and various gifts of San Cristoval, Bani, and Azua to
the west, and of Macoris, Romana, and Samana to the
east; but not one of the many fine corn, cotton, coffee,
and sugar estates was within my reach, for none on
his list were offered in small lots, and I left the office
of the polite notary in perplexity and irresolution.
I had turned my steps toward my temporary quarters, to think over in quiet all I had heard, and come
to some settled resolution as to the direction I should
pursue in my search for a home, when a trifling incident concluded my hesitation and determined my
future course.
I was walking slowly along a side street, anxiously
revolving my next proceeding, when a horseman
rode by at a brisk pace, and dismounted at the door
of a tidy cottage, a few paces ahead. As I came up
I heard the joyous welcome of wife, and children
poured forth in such a flood of hearty, homely English that it arrested my attention, and half unconsciously I paused for a moment to look in on the
happy scene.




20      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMING O.
The wide door opened into a neat, well-furnished
room on a level with the street, and a lively party of
friends and kindred were grouped around the newly
arrived, with the warmest expressions of affectionate
welcome. They were all colored people, yet their
dress and every item of their surroundings bespoke
at a glance easy circumstances and somewhat of culture.
Recollecting myself, I was about to pass on my
way, with a bow of mute apology for my abrupt pause
at the open door, when the master of the house saw
me, and interrupted his account of the state of friends
at Bani and Palenque-which, from my recent conversation with Don Leonardo, I caught up with a
thrill of peculiar interest-to step forward and ask
me if there was any thing in which he could serve
me. I excused my breach of decorum by frankly
stating that I was a stranger just landed, and that
the grateful and unexpected accents of my native
land had for an instant arrested me at his door.
"Ah, sir," said the man, in the most respectful tones,
"the American language is always like sweet music




LIFE  IN  ST. D OMINGo.              21
to me, too. I have lived here near on to thirty years,
and with God's help have done very well in Santo
Domingo; but there is no treat for me like seeing
a gentleman from the States, and hearing of their
great doings in steamboats, and railroads, and telegraphs."
"I shall be glad to exchange information with
you," I replied.-" The latest news from the United
States against your old experience in the nature and
capabilities of this country."
"I am a plain, hard-working man, without much
education," said Brooks-that was the name of my
new acquaintance-" but I have had plenty of rough
experience here, and if any thing I kn.ow about this
country can be of use to you, sir, I shall be proud
to do you a service."
Here was the very man I needed.
This sensible old settler, with his thirty years of
practical-or, as he called it, rough working-man's
-experience of soils, seasons, and localities, was
worth more to me, a poor toiling beginner, than volumes of scientific dissertation, fit only for rich men




22     ZLIFE  IN   ST. DorING O.
vho were able to carry out large plans with frill
hands. Moreover, he had just returned from a long
visit to Bani and Palenque, both inviting places,
thirty and forty miles to the westward of Santo Doraingo, to which, from among other points, rich in
cotton and sugar lands, Don Leonardo Delmonte had
called my attention, as distinguished for pure air and
healthy water.
Not desiring to trespass on Brooks's good-nature
at this moment of re-union with his family, I declined the arm-chair his wife hastened to press on my
acceptance, and confined the questions I was eager
to flood him with to one or two about the places he
had just visited. His answers were extremely suggestive.
"' Palenque," he said, with animation, " is the loveliest situation, and has the finest harbor to be found
anywhere on the south coast of Santo Domingo, be
tween this city and Azua."
"You ought to know this coast by heart," I said,
with a smile at his earnestness.
" You may well believe it, sir. I have learned it




LIFE  IN  ST. DO M INGO.             23
like A, B, C, by cutting and loading mahogany, and
other woods, to ship at every inlet and landing from
here to the Haytian line."
"And what is your opinion, Brooks, of this district for farming?"
" As to that, I can assure you, sir, that all along
the coast, about Palenque, Bani, and Azua, is a
beautiful level country, with fine savannas for pasture
back towards the hills. It is rather dry some seasons,
but very healthy."
" And how about the fruits?" I inquired with interest.
"' Plenty of fruits, sir-two or three kinds for every
month in the year, for the people who will take the
trouble to plant them. But that, you know, is the
case everywhere in this region."
" Only one question more, Brooks, and then I will
leave you to enjoy the company of your family, with
many thanks for your obliging information."
" Please don't speak of it, sir. It is such a pleasure
to us all to have a few words with an American."
"Well, my remaining question is about thle price




24       LIFE  IN  ST. DOM INGO.
of farming land. Do you know how it ranges in
that direction?"
"Not exactly, sir. It must be cheap enough,
though, for most of it lies waste, overgrown with
monte thicket."
"For want -of inhabitants, perhaps?" I suggested.
"Not that alone, by any means," replied Brooks,
"To be sure, the people are not very thick thereabouts, but there is enough of them to do something,
if they knew what to do, and how to do it, for
themselves and their beautiful lands. But they don't."
"Y es, I am told the Dominicans are not very
scientific farmers."
" Scientific, sir! Why, bless the poor souls, there
is not one in a hundred would know a plough from a
wheelbarrow, if you were to put them down together
on their dinner-table. That is," added Brooks, ill a
more subdued tone, "if these rancheros ever used
such fixings as a regular dinner-table."
"Why, Brooks, I cannot imagine the possibility
of farming without ploughs, and wheelbarrows too,
for that matter."




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.               25';That is because you are an American, sir; but
you will soon see for yourself that the whole of this
beautiful country is in a dead sleep, for want of these
ploughs and such like helps to break up the hard
crust, and let out the life that really is in the land."
"Well, I think I can promise to show you, some
day or other, an American plough in motion, with
an American ploughman at the handle, trying his
best towards waking up some little corner of this
sleeping soil."
On this we parted for the day; but in the evening
Brooks called to mention that Don Julio Perez, a
wealthy proprietor, a few miles beyond Palenque,
wanted to lease several farms on "shares," or at a
nominal rent, for a term of years, to American farmers. It had occurred to him that possibly this gentleman would sell me a small tract of fifty or sixty
acres on very easy terms, as he was bent on getting
sone people about him who really understood farming.
I took down the address of this proprietor, and in
the morning went with it to Don Leonardo, the no2




2G      LIFE  IN  ST. Do IIN G O.
tary, to learn whether this property was on his list
of lands for sale. It was not, but the owner, Don
Julio Perez, was his personal friend, and he offered
to give me a letter to him if I chose to go and see
the place. I gratefully accepted the offer; the letter was written on the spot; and I went back to
my temporary home with a light step, to prepare for
the trip.
Arranging with Brooks to forward my effects to
Palenque by a coasting vessel, in case I decided to
remain, I took my staff and scrip, and set out on
foot for the land of promise, the third morning after
my arrival in Santo Domingo.
It was a long day's walk to Palenque, but the
green and smiling landscape beguiled the hours, and
the sun was yet an hour high when I arrived at the
door of Don Julio's country house. I sent in the
letter by a servant, and scarcely had the time necessary to read it passed, when a slender, graceful,
bright-eyed man presented himself with a cordial
welcome. I read many signs of hope in his clear
brow, well-shaped head, and mellow voice.  Gen



LIFE  IN  ST. DO  INGO.             27
tlecman was written on every line of his face, and
in every movement of his slight but well-formed
person.
The letter of his friend, Don Leonardo Delmonte,
had briefly explained the object of my visit, and he
entered into the details of farming life in the United
States with an eager and intelligent interest. I
stated to him my exact situation, and did not
attempt to conceal the narrowness of the means on
which I founded my presumptuous plan of creating
for me and mine an independent homestead. Don
Julio was not willing to sell his land; but he said
there was a corner strip of something like forty
acres, with a small clearing, and the ruins of an old
cabin upon it, which he would consent to part with
to an American farmer who would engage to settle
upon it at once.
The next morning I arose with the sun. I spent
a busy and anxious day running over the land.
It was rather well timbered, with patches of heavy
undergrowth here and there, but generally open
and grove-like. The best point was that directly




28      LIFE   IN  ST. DO M INGOO.
around the old cabin-a perfectly free space of not
less than two acres in extent, bordered by some very
large fruit-trees.
Don Julio had named his price-one hundred and
fifty dollars, payable in one year. After this brief
survey of the ground, I went back in the evening to
say to him that I accepted the terms and would
like to enter into possession, in order to go to work
immediately.
" But this is the dry season," said Don Julio.
"From  the middle of December to some time in
April you cannot rely upon rain enough to bring out
any crop whatever that is not put in as early as
November."
"But the ground is to be cleared," I said.
6"Fences are to be made, and some kind of shelter must be put up for farming animals and implements, and this serene season seems to afford the
very best weather for that kind of work."
" Very true, there is plenty of work suitable for
each season of the year," was in substance Don
Julio's reply, "but few in this country either care




L IE  IIN  ST. DOMING o.            29
or know how to regulate their business so as to do
the right thing at the right time."
" Everywhere in this world, the only way to win
good returns for your labor is to work with system
and forethought, and I must try to learn the best
way."
" But you cannot live on your place at present?"
said Don Julio, interrogatively. " You must secure
a few servants, and build yourself a cottage before
you. can possibly settle on your estancia."
"I shall patch up the old cabin for a shelter, and
be my own servant until I feel my way to something
better," I answered, resolutely.
"Well," returned Don Julio, with one of those
happy turns of expression which converts into a
compliment what an ill-bred man would treat as a
disparaging circumstance; " Well, if you are resolved
on that course, I can only say, that the man who has
the courage to walk from Santo Domingo here, in
one day, to find a farm, and who examines the ground
and completes the purchase on the next, is not likely
to fail in any thing he undertakes."




30      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMING  O.
" I thank you for the compliment, Don Julio, and
will accept it as an encouragement to persevere in
my scheme of single-handed farming."
On this we retired for the night, and before my
host was awake in the morning, I was on the road
to my estancia, with a machete and hand-axe on my
shoulder, to repair as best I might, with these borrowed implements, the old cabin, and clear the small
grass-plot around it of the encroaching weeds.
A week later I had planted myself in the old cabin
— the merest apology for a shelter-on the land I
Ilad bargained for, and had written for my boxes
and farming things to be sent to me by one of the
little craft plying along the coast.
This ruin of a cabin, the two acres of cleared
ground, more or less, with some fragments of the
native evergreen fence of 2Maya around them, were
all the improvements on the place. Yet I entered
hopefully upon the task of converting this bit of
wilderness into a well-cultivated homestead.
Partly at Don Julio's suggestion, and partly to
aid my memory, when I wished to recall how my




LIFE  IN  ST. Do MI N G O.            31
work succeeded in its season, but most of all to
have some record which might serve a little to guide
the first steps of other new settlers, I began from
the first to take notes of what was attempted, and
what done, as each month came and went in its
course.
Af'ter mending the thatched roof of the cabin, and
cutting away the straggling brush around it, I was
ready to receive my farming implements and the
small stock of provisions which I had left to be sent
on by water. Until they arrived I slept under the
hospitable roof of Don Julio.
At the close of the last week of December, the
coasting sloop Alice landed my goods at Port Palenque, together with a small cart. It was a mere
hand-cart, in fact, which I had fitted with shafts on
the voyage, but it was my " chiefest treasure," and ]
loaded on it the balance of my worldly gear, and walking by the side of the donkey I proceeded with humble
rejoicing to my home. I slept there for the first time
New Year's Eve, and that night I commenced my
new life, and this, its faint, imperfect record.




32       L I FE   IN   ST.  DoMINGo.
CHAPTER II.
JA NUARY.
First night on my farm.-Happy surprise in the morning.-A
singular arrival. —Resolve to turn it to account. —Engage the
services of Juan and Anita Garcia.-Tent-makingr.-Juan assists.-Preparations for supper by Anita. —My new avenue.Orange and lime groves. —An unnecessary fright.-Faithfulness
of Juan.-The spring grove. —Iy garden. —What it contains.fow we fenced it.-American plough and other implements.Astonishment of the natives. -The old cabin. — What I did in
one month.
I THrEW myself in my hammock for my first night's
rest in my new home, with an indescribable sense of
responsibility, yet with a keen sensation of delight in
the free and self-reliant existence I had chosen. But
the fatigue of bringing home, and partially unpacking and putting in place even my limited stores,
was sufficient to overpower the excitement of my
novel position, and I was soon buried in profound
repose.




LIFE  IN  ST. DoM IN G O.          33
There was no door left on the cabin, and as I opened my eyes in the morning, I looked down a green
slope, and through an arcade of waving branches, on
a cluster of lime-trees, dotted with stars of golden
fruit. Under the shade of those limes, and encircled
with trees of larger growth, bubbles a spring of cool,
delicious water.
On this green slope, half-way between the spring
and the old cabin, I decided to pitch my sleepingtent.
It was New Year's day, a day of festival through
all Christendom, yet it seemed to me that I could not
enjoy it until I had set up my tent and entered formally into occupation.
I made my coffee, and had my truly happy New
Year's breakfast in the luxurious company of my own
thoughts, projects, and anticipations for the long
round of twelve months now opening with this bright
and genial morning.
After breakfast came the business of setting up
the tent. In bringing it with me from New York, I
thought to use it for a temporary dwelling on my
2*




34      LIFE  IN  ST. D O M INGO.
intended purchase, should there happen to be nothing
better to be found in the shape of shelter. It came in
good stead, for it leaves the cabin free for kitchen,
storehouse, and workshop, and affords me a cleanly
and acceptable refuge for my hours of rest and
relaxation.
Congratulating myself on my comfortable prospects, I was quite satisfied to regard tent-raising as a
holiday enjoyment, and set about it with a zest.
While I was cutting some forked sticks to strengthen
it stoutly, I happened to look round, and saw a very
black and very tall man, making his way through the
bushes. He approached with a smiling face and a
profusion of complimentary bows, which liquefied, as
it were, into a torrent of friendly words as he met
my extended hand.
He brought on his back a macuta-one of the
woven baskets of the country —filled with oranges,
plantains, bananas, and limes, which he tendered to
me with an air of hearty satisfaction-on the part of
his wife.
I had to ask my visitor his name, for these Domin



L IFE  IN  ST. Do MINGO.            35
ieans rarely use any form of introduction, either ini
presenting themselves or any one else for acquaintance, and learned that it was Juan Garcia, my nearest neighbor on the road to Bani, and that he had
come to offer his services and those of his family, if
there was any thing in whibh he could be useful
to me.
Don Julio Perez had named this man to me as the
most willing and industrious laborer in my vicinity;
and so he has proved, for he has worked with and
for me the most of the month, in a truly faithful and
thoroughly helpful manner.
In return for his acceptable gift of fresh fruits, I
could only offer Juan a portion of the poor luncheon
of crackers and dried fish which I had laid out for
my own frugal meal. So far was my new fiiend and
neighbor from slighting this more than Spartan banquet, that he asked permission to take what I had
given him to his wife; and when I threw a handful
of sea-biscuit into the macuta for his children, he became perfectly resplendent in ivory and eloquence.
He assured me that his Anita was a superior cook




36      LIFE  IN   ST. DOMINGO.
and an unequalled washer of fine linen, and in either
capacity was wholly at my service, volunteering to
bring her over in the afternoon to convince me of her
abilities in these lines of utility.
These are homely details; but all the daily wants of
life press hardly on new settlers, and the ready help
of Juan and Anita has been a comforting aid to my
restricted efforts.
Juan showed himself an alert, willing, and serviceable man, on this the very first morning of our acquaintance. He had a ready hand for every thing.
He gave me some instruction about the value of the
noble trees skirting the cleared space while he plied
the machete among them. His timely assistance enabled me to settle the posts and quickly rear my tent
in the selected spot, under the shade of those immense old fruit-trees, evidently the relics of a former
settlement.
The ground slopes gently down from the cabin to
this group of trees at the edge of the clearing, where
they encircle the spring in a symmetrical grove.
When the tent was up, Juan proceeded to cut




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.              37
some leaves of the fan-palm, and bound them into a
broom with a strong, cord-like vine, which he calls
bahuca; with this escoba he swept up the earth floor
of the tent as deftly as a woman, while I arranged
my boxes for seats and stretched my hammock into a
commodious sleeping-cot. This done, I surrendered
myself to a couple of hours of noontide repose, and
Juan went home.
It was a sweet rest, though I was too much interested to sleep; and with deep thankfulness to oui
Father in Heaven for the prospect before me, I
looked out of the raised curtain of my cool, airy tent
through the arcade of protecting trees, and planned
my next work.
It was a bold invasion into my shallow purse to
engage a man, so early in my career; but that
straggling and broken circuit of Maya hedge required a native hand to manage it, and I decided to
bargain with Juan for a week's assistance in fencing
in a house-lot.
He had gone home to carry my munificent gifts of
dried herring and sea-biscuit to his wife and children,




38      LIFE  IN  ST. D OMINGO.
but he did not fail to return towards evening with
his Anita. She is a laughing, buxom body, full of
talk and curiosity, but strictly respectful, and fully as
anxious as her husband to prove herself an obliging
neighbor.. Their little girl, Teresa, is a bright and
restless child of ten, black but comely, and she naturalized herself on my premises from that day forward.
Few noons pass without Teresa darting her round
head between the curtains of my tent on some message from her parents, or to ask some trifling favor
on her own account, but she is never in the way. The
other child, a boy, younger than Teresa, I see little
of; and as he is a busy little imp of mischief, I am
not sure that I would be sorry were I not to see him
at all.
Anita brought with her a cake of cassava bread
and some chocolate, which she asked permission to
prepare at the fire I had kindled. It was evident
they came to get ready my solitary supper. I of
course consented, and in a short time she emerged
from behind the old cabin, where I have established
my kitchen, carrying before her, tray-wise, a piece of




LIFE  IN  ST. DoMIN GO.              39
a box cover, on which rested some unknown articles
hidden ifrom sight by a clean white cloth.
I have arranged my bread-barrel in my tent, where
it does duty as a reading table, and on this Anita
placed her board tray, and, drawing off the white
covering, displayed a plate of toasted cassava, two
boiled eggs, a boiled pigeon, and a frothing cup of
chocolate. She begged me to excuse her boldness in
requesting me to taste these things "for the sake of
the New Year, and the poor neighbors who loved
gentlemen. "
I accepted the simple-hearted offering with sincere
thankfulness, for it was pleasant to begin the year
with such tokens of good-will from those about me.
Besides, however lowly their station, it was in their
power to serve or annoy me in no sinall degree, just
as the caprice to like or dislike should happen to seize
them.
While these little matters were occupying my particular attention, Anita joined her husband and child
outside the tent, but in such a position that she could
watch and serve me with a finishing glass of water,




40      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
and take away the remnants when the meal was
done. That over, I went into a long line of questions
with Juan about the mode of cutting fencing-stuff,
and handling that formidable, long-leaved, and thorny
edged Maya. This Maya is a bright evergreen and
durable hedging material, and there was enough of it
to enclose a space three times as large as the present
clearing, if it could be transplanted and set out in
order.
Juan readily undertook to remove the Maya to the
place I should mark out for it, either this month or a
little later in the season. Maya is one of the hardiest
of plants, and will live even when thrown out on top
of the ground; but it takes root quicker and grows
better if transplanted after a rain. Just then, Juan
was not prepared to make any promises about work;
he and his donkey, he said, were engaged in hauling some fustic to the bay of Palenque for shipment,
but that should not prevent him assisting me to repair the old hedge, or clear the line for the new one,
as soon as I might, decide on which plan I should
adopt.




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.              41
Before I slept I had come to a decision. I would
enlarge the space around the cabin so as not only to
include all the broken line of hedge, and bring in the
groups of fruit-trees, scattered all along the whole
circuit, but also to take within it the gentle rise on
the opposite side of the spring.
This piece of ground I had noticed as a dark, rich
loam, free fiom stones and full of small open patches,
indicative of former cultivation. This will give me a
home lot of seven or eight acres to put in cultivation
with the early spring rains, and with this plan for a
starting point fairly fixed in my mind, I committed
myself to the care of my Heavenly Father and sunk
to rest.
I awoke with the dawn, and hastily sprang from
my cot to begin the labors of the day. As my foot
touched the ground I recoiled with dismay, for I had
stumbled upon a human form, stretched at ful. length
across the entrance of the tent. The figure rolled off
the blanket, and, rising, presented the countenance
of Juan Garcia.
" Why, how came you here-and asleep?" I de



42      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMING O.
manded in astonishment.  "How  long have you
been here?"
" All night, SeFior. I left Anita with the children,
and came back to keep the Sefior company. I thought
the Sefior would be sad and solitary by himself, since
he was a stranger here."
" It was kind in you, Juan; but I never heard you
at all."
"No, Seflor, you were asleep, so I only said,'May
God protect him,' and lay down softly on the ground
by your hammock, and slept until this moment."
"Thank you for your good-will, Juan; but I am
not afraid, and would rather not take you from your
family to sleep here."
The poor fellow has in a manner adopted me as his
own, and without ever ceasing to be obedient and
respectful in his service, he assumes an amusingly
parental tone and style when watching and waiting
on my wants. He is withal an excellent hand in the
work peculiar to the country, as I learned to my satisfaction while we were trimming and cutting away
the wild vines and undergrowth under the noble




LIF E  IN  ST. D O MIN G O.          43
group of trees around the spring. They are all
firuit-bearing trees, and now that they are carefully
pruned, and the ground canopied by their widespreading branches, well cleared of every thing but
its soft carpet of "velvet grass," the "SPRING
GROVE," as I am proud to call it, is a noble feature
in my home landscape.  I did not know the value of
this magnificent group of trees until Juan informed
me that morning what they all were. He particularly called my attention to two of them, loaded with
round green fruit, which he told me was the famous
caimnete. This fruit ripens early in February, and
holds on through all March, and sometimes deep into
April. Its rich, delicious pulp has been happily compared to "peaches crushed in cream."  Froim the
two or three which I have already enjoyed, for mine
are now ripening, I think this delicate fruit deserves
all the praise lavished upon it.
Stimulated by the happy discovery that it was a
superb firuit-grove, instead of a cluster of wild forest
trees, which shades my tent and the beautiful spring
slope before it, I could hardly keep to the rule I had




44      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
laid down, to quit hard out-door work at eleven.
Juan worked with me at clearing with steady goodwill, cutting away the brush, lopping off the dead
limbs, and piling up the trash for burning; and between us we had given a different aspect to the
Spring Grove, and to the green borders of the spring
itself, before we left them.
Juan carried home his share of my plain dinner,
and after his departure I sought my hammock for an
hour of rest and reflection. I wanted to consider
what I should do first of all in the way of providing
for my support when the stock of provisions should
be exhausted. It is the dry season, and crops, that
is to say, products in quantities intended for sale,
could not be started at this time of year. Whatever
was already a month in the ground, and well under
way, so that the roots could find a little moisture below the surface, would keep on growing and ripening.
" Oh, that I had come out in October," I thought.
" Had I been here with the fall rains, I might have
had, at least, a vegetable garden very well advanced."




LIFE  IN  ST'. DOMIN GO.           45
Then arose the question:-" But may I not even now
prepare and sow a bed with a part of the seeds I
brought with me?  By dint of care and watering,
can I not gain a month or two on the dry season, and
raise a few vegetables for my own table?"  As I
asked myself these things, I was answered in my
own mind that it was well worth the experiment.
Yes, I would start a seedling bed without delay,
and before the seeds were out of the ground, Juan
and I might have the old fence so far repaired that I
need fear nothing for my young plants. I could not
remain in my hammrock after this idea seized me. I
was anxious to begin, and besides, the site I had selected would be partially in the shade, and pleasant
for work early in the afternoon.
Before two o'clock, my hour for commencing the
afternoon labors, I had got my tools ready and had
marked off a bed ten feet long and four wide, on the
east side of the old cabin. On the west side is my
kitchen, and the south looks towards my tent. I
chose the east to give it the benefit of the morning
sun, and yet secure it some shelter from the scorch




46      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
ing afternoons. With my pick-axe, hoe, and rake, I
had managed to get this rich bit of ground in pretty
thorough tilth when Juan and his wife dropped in
upon me, about five o'clock in the afternoon. Their
amazement was almost beyond words. "To work
in the dry season! To work so much on such a little
bit of ground. To work with so many tools." They
both stood and rung the changes on these singular
innovations upon their mode of cultivation, until they
were out of breath.
Juan took my want of experience in serious compassion.
"Do you know, Sefor," he asked, impressively,'" that in our climate nothing you plant in the dry
season bears fruit until the rains come on, unless you
water it many, many times?"
" But I intend to water what I sow in this bed as
often and as much as is necessary to bring the plants
forward.'I want to eat of these vegetables two
months earlier than I can have them if I wait for the
settled rains."
" But do they take so much trouble in your coUo



LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.              47
try to have a few young beans and tomatoes in March
when you can have them without any trouble in
MIay?" asked Juan, in undisguised wonder at such
absurd practices.
"' Why not, Juan? We can have nothing in this
world without trouble and sacrifice.""
Juan and Anita were by no means convinced of
the wisdom of my course, but they very cheerfully
brought water from the spring and gave the seedling
bed a plentiful bath, while I put in the little rows of
ocra, onion, tomato, and egg-plant destined for future
transplantation, alternated by like rows of lettuce and
radishes, which are to remain in final possession of
the ground they now occupy until called to the table.
By the time all the seed was duly coNvered in the
little rows, and I had finished off the bed with a row
of " early bush beans" at the outside edge, it was
dusk, and Anita called me to a pleasant supper of her
own arrangement. While the supper and the seedling bed were simultaneously receiving the last touches of preparation, Anita, who had become intensely
interested in both, kept running from one to the




18      LIFE  IN   ST. DOMINGO.
other in an amusing flurry of haste and excitement.
" Ah, Maria Purissima! what a variety of seeds,
and all marked out in such order. Will it please the
Sefior to come to supper? The rice cooked in cocoamilk is perfectly ready. But to think of seven kinds
of vegetables, all set in beautiful rows like the seven
cardinal virtues, and the whole to be fed with water
through the dry season. Wonderful! wonderful!"
Anita's distribution of the "c seven cardinal virtues"
was as incomprehensible to my understanding, as my
disposition of the seven vegetables seemed to hers;
but not choosing to expose my ignorance, I went
into supper without asking any questions.
After Juan and Anita had attended to theirs, we
held a council on the condition of the fences, and the
propriety of immediately clearing a few more acres
of land, for the double purpose of enlarging my
planting space, and of obtaining a supply of wood to
enclose it.
In conclusion, Juan agreed to work for me four
days in the week for the next six or eight weeks, at




L I FE  IN  ST. Dom I N Go.        49
half a dollar a day. He reserved two days in the
week for his own clearing and planting, which he said
he should conduct partly on the native plan and partly on mine, for he wanted to learn " American ways,"
and, most of all, the use of the " Yankee" plough, of
which he had heard surprising things from persons
who had seen it tearing up the ground in Cuba and
Porto Rico.
Finally, assuring me that I could depend upon his
coming to me with the sun the next day, Juan and
his wife went to their home, and left me to my solitary slumbers.
Juan was faithful to his word, and the work of
fencing in the space intended for the Home Field was
begun in earnest. Two sides-those forming the line
of my property on the north and west-are to be
guarded by a AMaya hedge and were left for the last.
The other two sides will be partition fences, if I am
fortunate enough to carry out my present plans) and
those we have closed in with a palisar or stake fence.
A Dominican palisar is a very simple, yet, if well
made, a very effective affair. Stout stakes are driven
3




50      LIFE  IN  ST. D  M INGO.
firmly into the earth at short intervals, and crossbars
are woven in and bound to them with strong and
durable vine-stems, which are called bahuca.
As fast as Juan and I cleared the ground we laid
up the posts and bars, and bahuca, and collected
all the brush, which was too small for service, in
heaps for burning.
The last week of the month, Juan and half a dozen
boys, whom he had collected from I know not where,
made a perfect holiday of bonfires of it, and my first
field stands almost ready for planting. There still
remains a strip of tangled undergrowth where the
old fence ran, but it is a perfect nursery of young
fruit-trees, which I wish to trim out and transplant
when the season permits. January is the month of
months for cutting timber and clearing new ground
for crops, and it has been fully occupied with its appropriate work.
There were three very heavy rains in the early
part of the month, and under their favor I made a
melon-patch back of the old cabin, and a much larger
one by the spring, of the savory Dominican calabazas.




tiIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.             51
They are all thriving, and so is a triple row of pole
beans on each side of the path to the spring.
Anita comes over every day or two to admire the
progress of the seedling bed, which is now well advanced, and to count up what varieties of vegetables
I have under way. She has herself smuggled parsley,
thyme, and coriander seeds among my beans, and
reckons them up with the melons among the vegetables. She proposes to make a "superb soup" for
Easter Monday, in which they are all to figure, I believe,-melons, cucumbers, and coriander included.
Now, at the close of the month, I can fully realize
how fortunate it has been for me that I began my
farming experience in Santo Domingo in the serene
month of January. It is really the first month of
the " dry season," though that is reckoned to begin
with December. These are the two best months for
beginners from the North. At this season the heavy
rains of the summer and early fall sensibly diminish
in force, and before February sets in they cease
almost entirely, leaving an interval of from seven to
nine weeks of bright weather, scarcely interrupted




52      L LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
by a passing shower, which the settler should not
fail to take advantage of.
This secure period of calm and cloudless sky has
given me time to form my plans, to select and clear
my planting-ground, and to strengthen my fences
against my neighbor's cattle; I have none of my own
as yet, to fence in or out.




LIFE   IN   ST.  DOMINGO.                   53
CHAPTER III.
FEBRUARY.
A call from Don Julio Perez.-Transplanting vegetables.-Juan's
curiosity.-Cutting logwood.-My success in clearing.-Another
visit from Don Julio. —Agreeable result.-Washington's birthday.-How I celebrate it.-Anita's breakfast for Don Julio and
myself. -My Buena Vista. —Mysterious conference between
Juan and Anita.-Preparations for an orange grove.-Juan's
amazement.-Success of my garden.
WE were blessed with a rainy week in the early
part of the month, and under favor of this unusual
refreshment of the earth, in the heart of the dry
season, I made a kind of winter garden at the low,
moist margin of the spring. In the rainy season
this bit of low ground, at the outlet of this precious,
unfailing fountain, might be altogether too wet for
satisfactory cultivation; but in the period of drought
it offers the only spot on my little homestead on
which I can securely rely for a fresh succession of the




54      LIFE  IN  ST. DoMINGO.
more delicate vegetables through most of January,
February, and March.
The morning after the first fall of rain I was up
with the dawn, and at work in my projected " winter
garden," breaking up the ground and laying off the
plats in regular order for the various plantings.
" You are at work early, sir," said a voice at my
elbow, as I was wielding the pick-axe with all the
vigor of the fresh morning. I looked up in surprise,
and met the kindly smile and extended hand of Don
Julio Perez.
"I rode over to see your improvements, vecino
rnio," said Don Julio, "and more particularly to
warn you that it is not safe for an unacclimated person, like yourself, to continue your labors through
the heat of the day."
"Thank you, Don Julio, for your consideration,
but that is precisely what I am careful not to do," I
answered. "I abstain from all severe out-door labor
after ten-or, at the latest, eleven-in the morning,
and do not resume it again until two or three in the
afternoon."




LIFE  IN  ST. D OMINGO.              55
"And yet, the five weeks you have been here have
left their mark," said Don Julio, politely, as he led
his horse a few steps up the spring slope, and swept
the clearing, of which it was the centre, with a look
of mingled curiosity and satisfaction.  "This large
clearing speaks strongly of an American axe in
American hands."
"I have a faithful help in Juan Garcia," I observed, "and in the hours I dedicate to labor I feel able
to work to some purpose."
"Perhaps it would be better for us all, natives as
well as foreigners, not to exhaust our energies at
mid-day," resumed Don Julio, after a moment of
thoughtful silence.
"I find it well, at least, I assure you, and I
would extend the rule in some degree to Juan,
but he cannot be kept to the early morning hours
of labor which I prescribe to myself."
" Of course not," said Don Julio; "none of these
people will give you a fair day's work, except in
their own old way. But the cool morning is running
away, and I am detaining you: Adios."




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
Springing on his horse, Don Julio galloped off
almost as abruptly as he came, but not without
pressing upon me the offer of a yoke or two of oxen
to plough up my corn-land in its season.
To return to my February rains, and their results.
The seedling bed of January, nursed with many copious waterings, became so thick set that it was necessary to transplant freely to give room for growth.
Juan went on alone with the Maya hedge, setting
that in its place with his native bush-hook, while I
set out abundance of tomatoes, egg-plant, ocra, and
other vegetables in my winter garden. We both
made the most of our plants while the earth was
moist with recent showers. They have taken very
well, and Juan brings over his friends every now
and then to see and wonder at the extraordinary
trouble I have taken "to have things grow in spite
of the seco-dry season."
Nevertheless, Juan and I are visibly progressing
with our clearing and fencing arrangements, and our
enlarged lot is now, at the last of the month, ready
for the plough, where the stumps will permit it to




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.              57
pass. Burning the brush has killed them ofi, and
will prevent " sprouting," and I have promised Juan
that by the close of the rainy season-or whenever
the care of the crop will best allow it-we will rig
out a stump-puller with our ox-chain, and make clean
work of most of the ground. He is wild with
curiosity to see the process of drawing out roots,
as I have compared it to extracting teeth.
February, with its almost unbroken succession of
calm, summer-like days, is exactly fitted to the business of clearing, and more can be done in one such
week, than in two when the rains set in; besides,
the time of rains should be employed in planting
the ground duly made ready in advance, when little
else can be done.
February is also a good month for pruning and
grafting, except for such trees as are then in the
midst of their fruit-bearing.
In the morning, after devoting an hour to my
vegetables and fruit-trees, Juan would present hiamself for work and his breakfast-a camp breakfast
of the roughest, but perfectly acceptable to a healthy
3*




58      LIFE  IN  ST. DO M I N GO.
appetite. Then to our daily war on the woodlandsI with my keen, smooth-helved American axe, to fell
the trees during my appointed hours of toil, and
Juan to trim off the branches with his long-bladed
native machete —always taking care as we went on
to pile aside the fence-stakes, and heap up the useless
brush for burning, as we had been doing through
January.
There was a beautiful eminence-a round knoll,
crowned with a dense grove of logwood, sloping
upward from the farther margin of the spring —
which gave us no little toil and trouble. It was a
thorny tanglement of undergrowth terrible to attack,
but we persevered with axe, machete, and brushhook, until it was all brought to the ground, and
the logwood trimmed for market.
One bright afternoon Don Julio dropped down
upon us in his sudden way, just as we were piling up
the last of our logwood, and inquired what I intended doing with it. I knew it was a marketable commodity, and that Don Julio was a large exporter of
mahogany and other woods; so I replied, half in jest,




LIFE  IN  ST. D   M INGO.           59
half in earnest, that I proposed to sell it to him in
part payment of my land.
"But you are not called upon to pay me any thing
before the end of the year," said Don Julio.
"Nevertheless, I would gladly dispose of this logwood as it lies here, and cancel so much of my indebtedness as it will cover. I leave the price to
yourself, Don Julio, as you are experienced in woods,
if you choose to take it."
Don Julio dismounted with a smile, and examined
the logwood- Campeche, it is called here-with attention.
"This is a fine lot, and convenient to the landing,
and at ten dollars a ton may be fairly worth one
hundred dollars," he said, as he remounted his horse.
"I will allow you that sum as it lies; or, if you
prefer, you may take it to the scales at Port Palenque
landing, and I will pay you by its weight ten dollars
the ton."
"I accept the hundred dollars, Don Julio. The
logwood is yours, and," I added to myself, with a
bounding heart, "two-thirds of the purchase price




60      LIFE]  IN   ST. DOMINGO.
of this fair homestead has been won from it in less
than two months' occupation."
This was the 21st of February, and on the 22d I
kept holiday, in memory of the birth of Washington.
It was a day of twofold interest,-dear in memory of the Father of his country, and dear because
it saw me in very deed the owner of my homestead.
At my request Anita came early, to prepare a camp
breakfast, for Don Julio had promised to ride over in
the morning with the papers for my land, and take a
cup of coffee with me. Of course, there was no end
of bustle and anxiety of preparation from sunrise to
about ten, when our guest presented hifself, and the
table was served with fresh lettuce, rosy radishes,
crisp cucumbers, and green beans. These first-fruits
of my industry figured, in this melange of all meals,
with the fresh cassava, nice calabaza, sweet potatoes,
and other vegetables from Juan's patch of garden,
besides a brace of broiled pigeons and a gourdshell
of boiled eggs as central ornaments. Not the least
luxury, in my estimation, was a plate of peachy



LIFE  IN  ST. DoMING O.             61
pulped caimnetes, and another of the rosy, sub-acid
pomegranate, mingled with creamy custard apples,
all from my own trees. The oranges were from
Juan's cottage door-I have none as yet-but all the
other fruits were from the grand old trees around
the spring.
It was an odd, but abundant, and not unsavory
meal, yet there was not an article upon our rustic
table that came from the United States, except the
toasted sea-biscuit and the Orange County butter
that dressed it.
The corn and the cassava bread were the product
of Juan's labor, but the coffee and sugar came from
Don Julio's plantation. His kind and neighborly
old mayoral-land steward-had proposed an exchange of those articles for some of my salted stores,
and both of us have found the arrangement satisfactory.
This trifing matter is only worthy of note because
other new settlers may find it convenient to be instructed by it. My first entertainment under the
shelter of my own tent was, therefore, in nowise an




62      LIF E  IN  ST. DOMI NGO.
American affair. It was Dominican-thoroughly ant
amusingly Dominican-in all its details. The ruling
idea was quantity. Every available nook and shelf
was put in requisition to hold some portion of Anita's
elaborate display; but the coffee was good, the omelet
respectable, the picadica excellent, and the pigeons delicious, so that ample justice was done to the extraordinary efforts of Juan and his wife.
After coffee, we took our oranges and our cigars
under the shade of the superb trees overhanging
the spring slope, and left the tent and their share
of the breakfast to these willing servants, for a quiet
hour of enjoyment in their way.
Meanwhile, Don Julio delivered to me the titledeeds of my place, duly attested in legal form.
They had been made out as if the money were all
paid, and he almost refused to take the note I had
written for the balance due him.
In his desire to serve me, he suggested the superior profits to be gained by cutting mahogany, satinwood, Campeche, ship-timber, etc., and offered me
liberal conditions if I felt disposed to procure a good




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGo.               63
force of axemen and teamsters from the United
States, and take charge of a valuable tract of forest
owned by him near the Haytien frontier. I declined,
partly on the plea of my insufficient capital and experience for such an undertaking; but the stronger
reason, as I frankly informed him, was my uncontrollable desire to obtain a settled and immediate
home for me and mine.
"Perhaps you are right. Yes, I have no doubt of
it, my friend," said Don Julio, after one of his
thoughtful pauses. "Health, tranquillity, and independence are the greatest of earthly blessings, and
you are now on the surest road to them."
Throwing away the stump of his cigar, he arose
and sauntered through my cherished and thriving
winter garden, complimenting the arrangement of the
beds, and promising to send me plenty of ginger and
arrow-root to edge the borders, and also bespeaking
a supply of tomatoes and ocra for his own table.
These plants are setting in fruit and blossom, and
there will be an over supply for us all, if they yield
as well as they promise.




64      LIFE  IN  ST. Do MINGO.
Returning from this circuit, Don Julio called for
his horse, but, with the bridle over his arm, he lingered and chatted over farming matters as he slowly
ascended, the knoll where he had found us piling
logwood the previous day. I was walking beside him
when he stopped abruptly, and exclaimed with enthusiasm:
"What a lovely prospect! How is it that I never
saw it before?"
I glanced round in surprise. Then, for the first
time, friom the summit of the knoll lately occupied by
the Campeche grove, I caught an indistinct but
charming view of the blue and dancing sea. It was
seen in broken glimpses through the intervening
trunks of forest-trees, and only a narrow belt of
foliage, easily swept away, marred the wide prospect.
The dense chapparal had hitherto completely obscured
the beautiful reach of lower land and the swelling
waves beyond it; but the last labors of Juan the day
before had rent away the veil. Until that moment I
had no idea that this moderate elevation commanded
such an extensive view. I observed to Don Julio,




LIFE  IN  ST. Do MINGo.              65
after we had gazed awhile in silence on its unexpected beauties"But it surprises me that you, the owner of this
estate, should not have known it before."
"I was aware," he replied, "that in old times
there was a residence here called Buena Vista-Fine
View-yet it never occurred to me to ask why. But
hark! is not that the murmur of the surf?"
"Yes, undoubtedly it is," I said, after listening
a moment, "and distinct enough, too. It is singular
that in all the last week, while Juan and I were
cutting this timber, neither of us noticed the sound
of the surf."
" Not at all. The wind did not happen to set this
way, and the rustle of the falling trees would deaden
the sound."
"Then these magnificent old fruit-trees, which I
am taking such a delight in pruning, were perhaps
planted for the adornment of Buena Vista?" I
suggested.
"Undoubtedly," replied Don Julio. "And now I
recollect that some of the old men about here have




66      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
told, me that in the days of its splendor this estate
had a straight avenue, with a double line of orangetrees on each side of it, from the mansion to Port
Palenque. The orange-trees were choked to death
long ago, but my people may find the line of the old
road when they take this logwood down to the landing."
"I too will look out for it, Don Julio, and be assured I shall exert myself to do all that Juan's labor
and mine can help towards opening a direct road to
the landing. The winding mule-path we are using
now is a rough affair."
" Do so, vecino mio," replied Don Julio, with a farewell grasp of the hand, " and we will also talk about
what can be done in the way of extending your
boundaries in that direction if you require more
land."
After his departure I threw myself on the ground
under the shade of the interlacing branches of the
noble fruit-trees —which I now felt were so really
my own-and thought over the cheering success of
my single-handed search for a home.




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.               67
I was still buried in these pleasant reveries when
Juan broke into them by bringing me a caimete
branch, loaded with that most delicious fruit. He
asked me if I was sick, that I remained so long sitting
motionless under a tree, neither eating, sleeping, nor
smoking. I answered by pointing to the snatches
of blue sea visible through the trees. He threw a
careless glance in that direction and asked me if I
thought the sea as beautiful as the savanna.'Sea and savanna are equally beautiful, Juan,
each in its way; but this grand reach of blue waves
and the fresh and bracing air which they will send
to us every hour of our lives are alone worth all I
have paid for this estancia. I hope to build my
own dwelling on this old site of Buena Vista, if it
shall please our Heavenly Father to smile on my
efforts in Santo Domingo."
Juan was astonished at the value I set on a sea
view, and assured me that he had at his rancho
almost as wide a prospect, but that a few bushes,
which he had never thought of taking the trouble
to cut away, had grown up and hid it from sight.




68      L IFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
He could partly appreciate the care I was bestowing
on the fruit-trees; he liked fruit himself, if it was
to be had without much trouble; and the shade was
rather agreeable in the lazy noon-tide; but the superfluity of a graceful arrangement or the charms
of an extensive prospect were below, or beyond, his
consideration.
When we returned to the tent he shared his surprise with his wife, and he made the computation in
his own fashion when he stated to her how highly
the Seiior valued his sea prospect. He had assisted in cutting down the logwood that covered the
old site, and was present when I sold it to Don Julio,
and he spoke, therefore, as one having official information.
"Anita, my lily, would you believe it," he said
to her confidentially, while I was out of sight, but
not out of hearing, mixing a glass of fresh lemonade
within the curtains of my tent, "would you believe it, Sefior Vecino says, very positively, that
the sight of the sea, when it is right blue, is worth
ten tons of Campeche."




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.              69
"Is it possible!" exclaimed Anita, in a tone of
profound astonishment, which melted gently into an
accent of commiseration, as she added, "But the
poor innocent lamb of a stranger don't know the
value of Campeche."
Nevertheless, I hold stubbornly to my own estimate of the comparative value of my sea views,
though it had not occurred to me to weigh it against
logwood, before Juan hit on the happy idea.
Had I required additional stimulus to steady, unflagging exertion, I might have found it in the encouraging circumstances of my logwood cutting; but
I did not need it. To work with an aim is to work
with interest, and to work with interest is so healthful
for mind and body, that there is no chance for miserable dyspepsia or for indolent repinings. My labors
are acceptable, and my intervals of rest delightful.
I find it the most agreeable of relaxations to plan
out my improvements, and to fit and adjust one occupation with another, so as to bring within the
compass of each successive week the proper duties
of its time and season. I want to feel and see that




70      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
the labors of every month have been, to the best of
my ability, such as most properly belong to that
particular portion of the year.
My clearing and fencing are over for the present.
SMy Home Field is in order for the plough, whenever the spring rains set in. When that time comes
I shall be able to exchange my own labor, with my
heavy American plough, for the use of oxen. Don
Julio offers me, gratis, the use of two yoke of strong,
though rather wild oxen, and a driver with them,
in order to have them all instructed in that yet
unknown mystery to Dominican agriculturists, the
art of ploughing.
The season has not yet arrived for that; but I
have plenty of occupation without it for the next six
weeks in the care of my fruit-trees, and, perhaps,
in putting up a poultry-yard.
I must think of what trees I require, of where I
am  to obtain them, when they should be planted,
and, neither last nor least, how I am to place them
to the best advantage, both with reference to their
respective demands on soil, and their symmetrical




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.              71
relations with the situation of a future dwelling on
my chosen site of Buena Vista.
There are many bearing fruit-trees on my homestead, eight or nine varieties at least; but there is a
serious lack of sweet orange-trees. There are limes
and sour oranges, plenty for my use, and always in
bearing, it would seem; but no trees bearing the
large, juicy sweet oranges, for which Santo Domingo
nas an old and well-deserved renown.
I want an orange grove for the enjoyment of its
wholesome, delicious fruit, and for the preparation
of that most delicate of tonics, "orange wine."  I
have tasted it at Don Julio's hospitable board, and
am impatient to see it at my own.
I have a fair beginning at hand in a wild, chancesown nursery of year old seedlings, which both Juan
and Don Julio assure me will bear in three years,
if left where they stand. But I have no idea of
letting them stand, for they have nearly every one
planted themselves in the wrong place.  I must
teach them how to shoot and where to grow, for 1
have my own plan as to what I shall do with them.




72      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMIN GO.
Early in January I noticed these clusters of young
oranges struggling for life under a suffocating load
of wild vines, along the line of the old hedge. I
carefully relieved them at the time from their encroaching enemies, and partially trimmed off the
crooked and superfluous shoots. Juan was eager to
bring his machete to my aid, but his slashing activity was much too energetic for the health of my
tender yearlings. I told him that I must reserve
them for my own mornings' recreation until the rains
came on, when I would be glad to have him help me
to transplant such as I should select along the spring
walk.
Juan heard the plan of transplanting with amazement.  "Transplant these things, Sefor!" he exclaimed; "why, these are nothing but sour oranges.
Ah, yes, here are two-three-four sweet ones, but
they are very well here. All the rest will give you
fruit as sour as limes, only fit to make orangeade for
sick people. T]hey may live or die anywhere, as God
pleases."
" But, Juan, I must place them where they will




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.               73
have room to grow, and in tirae make a pleasant
shade, to protect us from the sun and rain as we go
to the spring and back. Besides that, I intend in
due time that every one of these trees shall bear
plenty of the finest sweet oranges, like those in your
garden."
"How  is it possible, Sefior, to turn ugly sour
oranges into large, beautiful sweet ones, like those
Anita brings you?" queried Juan, somewhat doubtfully.
"Perfectly possible, Juan. I will engage to change
the nature of their bearing so as to make every
one of these wild, sour orange-trees yield none but
the sweetest fruit-exactly like your own, in factprovided you will give me some cuttings from the
tree before your door."
"Oh, Sefior, you know that the whole tree, body
and branches, is at your service. But when will you
perform the miracle?"
"About the first of Mlarch we will try to begin it,
but in the mean time we have our February pruning
to finish. Every thing in its season, Juan."
4




74      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
The last of our February work was the opening of
a small trench in the winter garden to let in water
from the spring. The dry weather tells more severely than I expected on my vegetables and garden relishes. The tomatoes hold up their heads, and are
well set with young fruit as large as marbles, and the
beans yield me a green mess every day for my dinner, but most of the other things seem to bear feebly.
They are growing fairly in stem and leaf, but the
fruit does not satisfy my expectations.
I have delved out with the pickaxe and hoe a
foot-wide trench, which, opening its trunk at the
margin of the spring, ramifies in crossing and expanding branches so as to conduct threads of water
through most of the beds. It has cost me several days
hard toil, with four half days of hired work from
Juan, but it has secured the well-being of my plants,
and I have a strong faith that the abundant and
varied produce of this bit of ground will well repay
the trouble.
I have worked and watched their progress with
too much interest, not to be sensible of the fresh




LIFE  IN  ST. DO  IIN G.          75
and improved appearance of my plants since I sent
the trickling overplus of the spring meandering
among them, and, for every hour I have given them,
they will return me days and weeks of increased
comfort and health. This much at least I have
learned, and earned, in the first two months of
working experience in my new country.




76    LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
CHAPTER IV.
MAR CH.
Fruits and flowers.-Charms of tropical life.-A visit from Juan's
cousins.-What they wanted.-A strange " baptism."-Preparations for grafting-Startled by the appearance of a crowd around
my tent. —The " convita."-M-y " neighbors and well-wishers."Grafting performed in presence of a large company. —Pronounced a "miracle."-The great feast.-My address.-How
responded to.-Jose Ravela. —We resolve to make a road to
Palenque.-Don Julio's surprise.-He promises assistance.-The
road finished.-Ignorance, not industry, debasing.
A PERPETUAL succession of fruits and flowers is one
of the peculiar charms of tropical life, and March,
like February, belongs emphatically to fruit culture.
The pruning-knife and saw may be used moderately
in January and freely in February, but March is the
month for the final trimming and most reliable grafting of all kinds of fruit-trees, except those absolutely
in the heart of their bearing season.




LIFE  IN  ST. Do MINGO.             77
Juan had talked all through February of the grafting exploits we were to perform in March. Some of
the neighbors had a dim idea of the process, but none
had ever witnessed it, and there was quite a stir of
expectation around and about me, though I was
altogether unconscious of it until the day of action
arrived.
On the last evening of February, I was bending over
the closing notes of the month's summary, when the
hum of voices outside of the tent aroused my attention.
It was Juan, attended by a brace of cousins, who had
come to ask formal permission to be present at "the
baptism of my young orange-trees."  For a moment,
I was at a loss for the meaning of this odd phrase;
but Juan explained it by reference to the sour orangetrees which I was to convert into bearers of sweet
oranges of the first class, by some peculiar process
which his friends were anxious to behold.
" Oh, certainly," said I. " Juan and his friends are
heartily welcome to all I can show them. We will
name next Monday morning for our grafting experiment. But I must first prepare my grafting salve,




R78     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
and, to make it properly, I must beg Anita to favor
me with a lump of her nice beeswax."
" En hora buena," exclaimed Juan, joyously. "In
a good hour.  My lily of a wife"-Juan had the
habit of calling his ebony spouse his " rose" and his
" lily" when his spirits were elated-" my Anita said
only to-day that she ought to bring you some new
honey, and when the smoke is going, and my hands
are among the hives, I will see that you have plenty
of wax. Never fear for that, Sefior."
" A piece the size of a hen's egg will be sufficient
for all the trees I propose to graft. Don't trouble
yourself or Anita to provide more than that."
" But does not the Sefor want something from the
apothecary at Bani for this famous salve?" inquired
one of the cousins, in an anxious tone. "If he does,
I will walk over there to-night, and bring it to him
before noon to-morrow."
" No, thank you. Except the wax, I have all I require in that tin cup on the shelf. I take a bit of
candle and as much rosin, or, as I have no rosin, as
much tar as the tallow and wax together, and I have




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMIN GO.             79
all I want. These three ingredients well mixed and
melted, and spread on strips of old rags of any kind,
is the whole story of this grafting salve. I hope you
will all remember and practise it."
" Wax and tar and tallow," said Juan's other
cousin, in a tone of surprise nearly allied to unbelief,
"' nothing but wax, tar, and tallow to baptize a sour
orange into a sweet one! Why, Sefior, that stuff is
what we use to cure an ox or a burro when he gets
a bad cut."
"Nothing else is needed, I assure you. Fruittrees are as easily treated as oxen and donkeys.
Only remember my directions, and practise carefully
the proper method of uniting the young slips of
sweet orange with the stems of the roughest and
wildest nature, and you may have as many fruittrees of the best quality as you wish, or have ground
to plant in."
With this recommendation, which they promised
not to forget, my visitors departed in high good
humor, and left me to my solitary but never lonely
repose. I am too full of occupation for lonesomeness




80      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
-which is the oppressing genius of men without an
aim.
On the appointed day, not only Juan and his wife
with his cousins and their wives, but at least a
round dozen of their friends, male and female, were
on the ground. After an early cup of coffee, I had
gone over to Juan's cottage to cut scions from the
superior fruit-tree at his door. When I returned I
was a good deal startled at seeing a crowd gathered
around my tent. I felt reassured, however, when
Juan's cousin Anselrno detached himself from the
group, and informed me that these were all my
" neighbors and well-wishers, who had come to seewith my permission, and if I found nothing improper
in their presence-how I performed the miracle of
changing the nature of a tree from bad to good."
Anselmo had the idea rooted in his mind that
there was some occult, though benign, charm in the
proposed operation. In his simple fancy, it had a
kind of assimilation to the sacred rite which hallows
the infant brow, and brings it within the fold of
Christianity.




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.              81
There was not the remotest tinge of irreverence in
their unsophisticated hearts, and I felt that the shortest way of explaining the simple and material nature
of the change to be wrought in the fruits yet to be
borne by these hardy stocks, would be to show the
exact character of the operation.
With a few brief words of welcome, I invited them
to the scene of business. They thanked me with impressive solemnity, and moved in mass to the point
indicated, where they took their assigned places with
the grave decorum of a Committee of Observation,
duly authorized to carefully watch and exactly
report every step of the important process.
I could hardly repress a smile as Juan stepped
about, his countenance charged with the deepest expression of responsibility, ranging his men in a standing semicircle on one side, and seating the women
under Anita's captainship on the grass, opposite
their liege lords, but a little farther removed from
the centre of operations.
I asked two of them to come forward and notice
the young trees before I beheaded them; that they
4*




82      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMING O.
might see for themselves that they were then but
saplings of the common sour orange, although they
were never to be permitted to bear other than
large, sweet fruit, exactly like that of their neighbor Juan's, which, be it said, is the admiration of all
that circle.
"There are three limes here besides the seventeen
oranges," observed Juan sedately, not for my benefit
-for we had counted them half a dozen times overbut for a little stage effect on his own account.
" I think we will make sweet oranges of the limes
also, while we are about it, Juan." A suppressed
murmur of amazed del4ght was the only reply, as I
advanced to open the play.
The salve and bandages were ready, as well as
the scions, which, as I have already noted, Juan and
I had cut early in the morning. As I successively
headed down and cleft the stem of each young tree,
Juan, previously instructed in his part, with two
smooth strokes of his knife, cut the scion butt into a
long, true wedge, and handed it to me to insert in
the stock. The instant my knife parted the cleft,




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMING o.             83
Anita, and an aide-de-camp cousin, honored for the
day with the charge of the twine, delivered the
bandage, to be wound well and firmly over the union
of scion and stock, and assisted in tying it all in
place. In this order we went from tree to tree, till
every one had received the crowning graft, and then
for the first moment did the anxious company unbend from its rigid attitude of attention, and break
forth into the warmest expressions of applause.
More numerous and distinguished spectators may
have cheered the experimental labors of a Franklin,
while seducing the lightning from its wild path in
the heavens, or a Jenner, while spreading the mild
glories of vaccination, but neither of them ever had
an audience more trustful and appreciative, than the
breathless circle whose eyes followed with reverential faith every motion of the two jack-knives and of
the ancient tin cup, while employed in doing the
honors of that grafting day.
I have no doubt that nearly every man then present will try his hand at grafting fruit-trees in some
fashion, and without much regard to time and season,




84      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
but I shall feel well satisfied if any one of them really
succeeds.
I was careful to explain to them that the most
suitable time is towards the close of the dry season,
when the sap is concentrated, and disposed to rush
into vigorous circulation with the early rains; but few
of that class will remember it. Yet it will be well
for new-comers in this sunny and abounding land to
give some heed to these lessons.
Trees may be safely relieved of that luxuriant surplusage of branches, so noticeable in most tropical
countries, at almost any season of the year; but the
time for regular and complete pruning is between
December and May, when the circulation is languid,
and nature declines exhausting her powers in impetuous efforts to sprout new shoots where the old ones
are lopped.
Men of practical experience have assured me that a
judicious trimming in January or February gave an
advantage equal to a year's growth in oranges, mango,
mamey, and other young fruit-trees, —most of them
being larger, more beautiful, and bearing better at




LIFE  IN  ST. DO MINGO.              85
three years, than others in the same grounds, which
were left to themselves, at four, and even five years
from the seed.
There is generally in the Antilles a period of
"forty dry days," some time between the first of
February and the last of March, and this is the chosen
period for pruning and grafting.
My grafting for the current year was begun, and
in all probability was finished, on the memorable first
Monday of March, which I am now chronicling at
this egotistical length. In truth, my kind neighbors made it such a pleasant day that I love to dwell
on it.
It was near eleven when the last crowning scion
received the final knot on its bandage, and I was not
sorry to be done with it, and turn to the cool shade
of my embowered tent for an hour's repose.
As I drew back the curtain to enter, I discovered
Anita and her little daughter Teresa buzzing about
like two distracted bees, in the vain endeavor to dispose in neat order a dozen independent heaps of fruits
and vegetables, scattered on the floor, on the table,




86      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
on the boxes that do duty for sofas and chairs, on
every thing, in brief, and in every corner that would
hold them.
" What in the name of wonder is all this, Anita?"
" Oh, nothing, Sefor. The' convita' (the party of
invited guests) knew the Sefior was a stranger in our
country, and each of them brought a yam, or some
cassava, or a handful of potatoes, or any nadita (little
nothing) from their own grounds, so as not to give
the Sejior the least trouble about their breakfast."
"Then we are to give all these people a regular
breakfast?" I demanded in consternation, as my scant
store of camp cups and plates, not to mention wherewith to fill them, flashed across my mind.
"Don't be concerned, Sefior," said Anita, with the
triumphant composure of an able general, serenely
conscious that his well-planned arrangements have
secured victory to his banners. "Juan and I have
prepared every thing."
"Is this splendid breakfast to be laid out here,
Anita??" I inquired, in helpless despair, glancing
round at the narrow limits of the tent.




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.                87
"God forbid, Sefior," said the woman, hastily.
"We know better than to take such a liberty with
the Sefior's private apartment."'Where then is the affair to come off?" I asked,
greatly relieved by this declaration.
" I will show the Sefior, if he will please to walk
this way," she answered, radiant with the feminine
delight of having managed a success.
I followed her docilely to the door of the old cabin.
This had been cleared and repaired, to serve as a
kitchen and store-room; and what with barrels, cart,
plough, etc., it was reasonably full of a poor farmer's
working gear; but while I was busy in the early
morning, getting my scions and attending to the minutiav of the grafting preparations, two of Anita's
confidential friends had quietly slipped into possession.
I will not attempt to describe the process by which
three barrels and a couple of planks were converted
into a table; the plough and "cultivator" made the
ornamental supports of a rustic sofa; while the cart
and wheelbarrow loomed into the dignity of side



88      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
boards. Enough to say that those who planned the
feast and shared in it, found it to their perfect satisfaction.
The company were not present when I went to survey the hall of entertainment; Juan had considerately led them off to the site of Buena Vista, to show
them how thrifty and symmetrical those trees were
growing which we had trimmed in January. When
they returned it was about noon, and the breakfast
was ready for them.
As to the feast, I can only chronicle that an eno'rmous baked fish came from I know not where, and s
vast platter of stewed kid, formidable to the eye, but
of fragrant odor, was rushing in on the head of a
tattered youngster from other unknown regions.
These, with a Spanish " san coche" composed of pig,
pigeon, and plantain-excuse the alliteration-were
the staple dishes. An unlimited supply of corn-cakes
and warm vegetables was kept up by an old crone in
charge of three or four fires back of the cabin, and
whatever my biscuit barrel and a smaller one-whose
contents shall be nameless-could do in the way of




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.              89
helping out this wildwood cheer, was frankly contributed.
My own simple noon meal was served to me apart
in my tent, but when that and theirs were well over,
I went to the cabin and circulated a bundle of native
cigars among my native guests. Not being compelled to smoke them myself, I was quite regardless of
the expense, which, for the benefit of future immigrants, who should always have some on hand to
offer to country visitors, I will mention, is something less than a cent each.
After eating, drinking, lounging, and smoking until about two, the whole party, headed by Juan,
filed up before the tent, to offer their aid for the afternoon in completing my fence. That was a piece of
business at which so many hands could not be employed to advantage, and I proposed, in its stead, to
name something which I said ought to interest all
the neighbors.
A quiet little fellow, named Jose Ravela, promptly
answered, in the name of his companions, that they
had come to offer me their services in whatever way




90      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMING O.
would be most acceptable, and I had only to signify
my wishes.
I pointed out, in a few words, that the neighborhood was utterly destitute of a cart road to the port,
though it was but a mile distant from their centre
of settlement at the edge of the prairie.' "Does Sefior Vecino (Sefior neighbor) say we
ought to make this road?" asked Jose, evidently taken
by surprise.
"Yes," I boldly replied, " and we ought to make
it now while the season favors us. If we unite our
efforts for one day in a week, we can open for ourselves a fine, firm, straight road in a couple of months.
It will harden and improve while our crops are growing, and when they are gathered we can take them
to Palenque in carts, at half the expense and trouble
it now costs to carry them as you do, on the backs
of mules and donkeys."
"Enough. We are all ready to follow you in the
work," was the cordial response of the most influential voices present.
This road had occupied my thoughts for some




LIFE  IN  ST. DO MINGO.            91
time, and I had carefully examined the lay of the
land. In effect, the line of the road was so easy and
obvious, that I had in a measure traced it out in advance. This volunteer force enabled me to begin it
well, and, once begun, I could foresee a way to have
it completed.
The great coast highway from Santo Domingo to
Azua skirts our savanna for several miles, leaving a
belt of woodland, between it and the sea, but sparsely
dotted with small cleared fields. Mine lay about midway between the prairie edge and the Bay of Palenque, but I had no more interest than the poorest of my
farniing neighbors in opening this cross road from
the highway along the savanna to our common seaport at Palenque, and all of us together scarcely as
much as any one of the large landowners like Don
Julio Perez, who were weekly shipping their sugar
and fine woods from this point.
Armed with axe and machete, my neighbors and I
lost no time in commencing the work at the nearest
point, according to my plan; and, taking the direction
of Palenque, we cut away with such energy, that by




92      LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
sunset we had opened a long vista between the walls
of verdure on either hand, to the unbounded satisfaction of the company. There were no large trees to
dispose of, and the nature of the ground is extremely favorable; so our progress was rapid, and our industry told well to the eyes and hearts of the laborers.
The idea of a road of " our own," where it was so
much needed and so easily made, captivated all,
and before we dispersed it was unanimously agreed
that the neighbors should again unite their forces and
continue the work for three successive Saturdays at
least.
On this I told the company that I felt that we had
earned the right to call on Don Julio Perez and the
large proprietors, who used Palenque as the shipping
port for their rice, sugar, and precious woods, to do
their proportion towards opening a road so useful to
their leading objects of business. My hearers were
perfectly enchanted with the brilliant audacity of an
appeal to the rich proprietors, and pledged themselves over and over again, with great heartiness, to




LIFE  IN  ST. DoMIN GO.             93
undertake with me the half of the road on our prairie
side, if Don Julio would engage for himself and
friends to make the portion that traversed their own
wild lands around Palenque.
When I broached the matter to him I fancied that
Don Julio was slightly astonished at the bold urgency of a poor stranger, but I insisted upon his attention to its bearings on his own interests, and won
from him a promise that he and his friends would do
their part, after Iand my humble friends (who were
so much less able, and so much less to be profited
by it) had fulfilled our proportion of the undertaking.
Resolved not to spare my own full share of effort,
I spent most of the week in chopping up and remo~ving to one side of the lane the brush which remained
in the way. My new fence was lined with it, and to
this Juan and I put the finishing bars and stakes as
we went along. It was done on Thursday, and my
field was now not only completely enclosed, but every
tree in it carefully trimmed of dead and superfluous
limbs. All of Friday was given to marking out the




94      LIFE  IN  ST. D OMINGO.
work for my neighbors, when they should collect in
force for road-making the next day.
They were true to their word, and the day's
work told wonderfully. The first twenty yards were
close chapparal, but beyond that stretched a long
grassy strip of plain ground, which gave us, ready
made, near three hundred yards of excellent road
from nature's own hand. Farther on, our lane cut
through the border of an abandoned field, leaving on
either hand just enough young trees to ensure a
charming shade.
Placing Juan with two assistants at one end of
this troublesome patch of chapparal, and Jose Ravela
on the opposite side, I directed them to cut towards
each other until they met, while I crossed the open
glade with the main force and continued the lane onward. By so doing the two sections laid off for the
forenoon were both well opened at half-past eleven,
when we called a rest.
We had our luncheon on another small open glade,
at the termination of the second section of the morning's work. From thence we looked back with de



LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.              95
light, through a beautiful straight lane, to the point
of commencement.
The afternoon's work did not show so well; for after
passing the old field, and the little glade beyond it
where the former cultivator once had his cottage and
door-yard, we entered the real forest. But this was
the domain of Don Julio, and, in strict justice, to him
rather than to us belonged the charge of the road
hence to the sea. Our remaining work lay at the
other end of the line, towards the prairie, and was
to be resumed at our first starting-point and carried
out to where it would strike, nearly at right angles,
the royal highway. Still we dented our lane a few
rods into the forest border, so as to connect it with a
beaten horse-path, leading down to the port and
fishing-grounds of Palenque; and we worked zealously to effect this before we separated.
The axe was still ringing, and the machete merrily
plying among the falling limbs, when Don Julio rode
in among us from the winding Palenque path.  He
trampled through and over the last felled branches,
and reined up at the head of the long line of light




96      LI FE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
opened by our lane, with a strong exclamation of
delighted surprise. That one long, earnest gaze
through the clear vista carried a more direct conviction to his heart than a thousand arguments. In showing him what we had done, it told hilm what he ought
to do. When he spoke it was to the purpose.
"This road is exactly what we want, my friends,"
he said, warmly:-" what every man with a ceroon
of sugar or a stick of timber has suffered for these
thirty years, and it shall be finished forthwith."
This announcement was received with enthusiasm,
and the spirit of mutual helpfulness which took form
that evening has been in active operation the whole
month, and with the month the road has been completed.
March has been what it should be, by natural laws,
-a season of fruit-grafting and road-making. The
last Sunday of the month, Don Julio sent a horse
for me to join him and a party of his friends in a ride
to the peerless bathing-coves of Palenque, through
our new and straight road, and through it back again
to a supper at his house.




LIFE  IN  ST. DO MlINGO.             97
I return from it to close my record for the month,
and to add that the fact of my working among workingmen for my daily bread has not unfitted me,
either in my own estimation, nor, so far as I can see,
in the estimation of Don Julio's aristocratic circle,
for the free interchange of useful plans and ideas, if
I happen to possess any, with these privileged " exempts" from manual toil. Remember, honest fellowtoiler, it is ignorance, not industry, that dwarfs and
debases those men without manhood whlo would
rather beg than work.
5




98        LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGo.
CHAPTER V.
APRIL.
Ploughing-match at Don Julio's.-Stupid native.-UInruly oxen.An unlooked-for assistant.-Don Delfino de Castro. -Achieve a
great victory.- Compliments and  congratulations.-Return
to Buena Vista. —Important changes.-An "Eden of tranquillity."-A guest for the night.-He proposes to remain longer.Camp cooking and coffee-making. —Compact with Don Delfino. —
What we do together.-His man Isidro. —Beautiful appearance
of my orange avenue.-Plentiful showers.-Fragrant blossoms.
-Crowning triumph of my garden.
FRAGRANT April has come and gone.  Balmy and
flower-laden is April everywhere, but eminently fragrant and blossoming here, where fruits and flowers
crown every month of the year with  garlands of
beauty.  Strictly speaking, the "wet season" commences in May, but there are few years in which the
frequent and refreshing showers of April will not jus.
tify early planting, particularly of corn, potatoes, and
beans, all of them most excellent and paying crops in




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.               99
the West Indies. It is always within the compass of
the poorest man, if he is willing to work, to produce
these crops in sufficient abundance for the comfortable support of a plain farmer's family.
Juan, who has stood by me so faithfully in my
clearing, fencing, road-making, and fruit culture, is
now busy in getting his own crop in the ground, and
can only work for me two or three forenoons in the
week. I had arranged my plans to meet this limited amount of help, when a timely accession of aid
and encouragement burst in from a most unexpected
quarter.
Don Julio had offered to lend me a yoke of oxen
to break up my land, and I had proffered in return
the use of my plough to turn up an old field adjoining his house, which he desired to plant with coffee.
I had no will to trust my heavy plough to his ignorant field-hands and ill-trained oxen, and therefore
proposed to do the work myself at a specified time.
We had several falls of rain in the first two weeks
of April; and a succession of three smart showers
within the space of seven days is warrant enough for




100     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
any farmer to begin his planting in Santo Domingo.
It had rained nearly the whole afternoon and night
of Saturday, and when the plough and I made our
appearance at Don Julio's, early on Monday, we found
not only the ground in a splendid condition to do us
credit, but also a goodly company assembled to
award us all the honor plough and I could possibly
win by our best efforts.
The oxen were led out, the plough attached, and
the first furrow laid off with great 6clat, but on turning the second, the oxen-probably discovering that
there was something unusual and un-Dominican in
these proceedings-suddenly became obstinate and
unruly.
The man who worked them was rather more
stupid and unmanageable than the oxen, and for a
moment we had an awkward "balk" in the ploughing. A Seior Delfino de Castro, who had come
over from his farm on the San Cristoval road-a
man endowed with that most uncommon gift among
the Dominicans, the right manly use of his handspromptly stepped to the rescue. Dismissing the con



LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    101
fused and clamorous negro driver, Don Delfino took
the guidance of the halflwild oxen, while I held the
plough. The piece laid off for the first day contained
twelve tascas-that is to say, the full allotment of
twelve days' work for an able-bodied man to cut up
with the hoe-and, as I proved it afterwards, not far
from half an acre.
As the deep true furrows were run, and line after
line of clean dark loam lay upturned to the fertilizing
sun and showers, and to such purpose as no man present except myself had ever seen the soil cut and
stirred before, the first deep silence of watchful doubt
turned into murmurs of pleased surprise. WVhen the
last ribbon of green was turned under and disappeared before the cleaving ploughshare, the whole company gathered round Delfino and myself, to overpower us with compliments and congratulations.
How strongly did I realize that there is a true
dignity in labor'when it is useful and well performed,
and when the laborer does not disgrace himself and
his calling by being ashamed of it. This circle of
wealthy non-workers were at least competent to bal



102    LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
ance the results of that forenoon with the plough
against the shallow, uncertain work of twelve men
with the heavy native hoe, and estimate its value. It
was even more than so much human labor saved, for
in the effective preparation of the soil we had done
the work of twenty men, as the Dominicans manage it.
Not one of that circle, except Delfino, had the
force, moral, mental, or physical, to do the same,
but not the less did they, one and all, treat us-the
hard-handed victors of toil-as the especial and honored guests of the noble entertainment which Don
Julio had ordered for the celebration of what he was
pleased to call the "introduction of Prince Plough to
his agricultural subjects in his future realm of Santo
Domingo."
It was a brilliant evening for me. The remarks of
those educated and high-bred gentlemen were of absorbing interest, and promise an abiding utility in my
guidance. I enjoyed much, and learned more, in the
social flow of Dominican thoughts, habits, and expo
riences, and I left the charming circle with regret.




LIFE  IN  ST. DoMINGo.    103
Don Julio urged me to remain for the night, but I
had work laid out at home which I could not afford
to neglect; but, that done, I promised to return and
finish ploughing the field which we had commenced
with so much honor.
The next morning but one found me at his place
bright and early, and the day after also; which finished the field, and my engagement, and left me free
to plough and plant for myself, with the use of a
strong pair of oxen as long as I required.
Yet this interval of three days had wrought some
changes of no mean importance to my plan of life.
They originated on the memorable evening of the
plough festival, which I had passed so agreeably in
the social circle of Don Julio and his intimates, but
which I was forced to leave rather early, to be home
in reasonable season, and ready to attend betimes to
some work set apart for the morrow.
On leaving, Don Delfino said he should bear me
company a part of the way, and we started together.
The night was soft as June, the road open and
level all the way —thanks to our exertions in cutting




104     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMIN G O.
a straight lane through the timber-and the colyvcirsation so interesting that Delfino made no motion of
turning back until we stood side by side before my
tent, looking round at the beautiful effect of the starlight on the open space, belted in by a dark wall of
woodlands, and picturesquely dotted by the groups
of fruit-trees rescued from the wilderness,
"What an Eden of tranquillity!" said Delfino.' It disinclines me to return to Don Julio's to-night."'
"I have a spare hammock, Don Delfino, and this
tent and cot are altogether at your service, if you will
favor me with your company."
" AMil gracias,-a thousand thanks-but I will not
consent to rob you of your house. I am an old campaigner, and want nothing better than the hammock.
In a word, it shall be that and nothing else, or I go
back to Don Julio's. Which say you?"
" Oh, the hammock, by all means, since you leave
me no choice, and I will sling it at once," I answered,
moving into the tent to strike a light and begin operations.
"First tell me what this is," interrupted Delfino,




LIFE  IN  ST. DOM I N GO.    105
taking the direction of the old cabin, which is now
completely embowered in a palisade of Lima beans
in full bearing.
"That is my workshop, tool-house, and kitchen,
Don Delfino. Here, in this rustic porch of my own
construction, my meals are cooked. You can see my
calabash bowls and cocoa-nut cups on that shelf.
This is my dining-table, made out of the smallest of
the two packing-boxes in which I brought my
effects; the largest supplied me that cupboard beside the door."
"You are an independent hermit, amigo mio,"
said Delfino, gayly, " and I am glad to see you light
up the interior of this sanctum, that I may study it
the more closely."
I had touched a match to a candle while he was
speaking, and held it up to give him the view he desired.
"What can this fantastic little plough do?" IIe
had glanced into every corner with the restless curiosity of a school-boy let loose in a lumber-room, and
now brought out a small patent "cultivator," with as
5*




106     LIFE  IN  ST. D OMINGO.
much glee as the same school-boy might feel on the
discovery of a three-wheeled cart in some dark recess.
"That fantastic little plough, as you call it, Don
Delfino, is intended to cut down the weeds in planted
fields, is made very light, though strong, to be
drawn by a small donkey. The donkey is the cheapest animal-power in this country, and therefore the
most suitable for a poor beginner like me."
"This is something really new," said Delfino, examining it with attention, " and almost as important
as the plough. When do you expect to use the little
beauty?"
"To-morrow  morning," I replied. "These late
showers have brought out a rank crop of weeds in
what I call my winter garden. They must be cut
down before I begin any new work, or even finish
Don Julio's ploughing."
"To-morrow morning," exclaimed Delfino. "Tomorrow morning. Then I shall see the performance.
Let me be your burroquero-your donkey-driver?"
I could not but smile at Delfino's enthusiasm, but I




LIFE  IN  ST. D OM INGO.            107
told him that one man, or, for that matter, a boy of
twelve years, would be quite sufficient for the management of both the donkey and the weeder.
"Nevertheless I shall ask your permission to learn
the use of this gem of an earth-cutter to-morrow,"
said Delfino. "And like the knight of old, on the
vigil of his initiation, I shall sleep by my weapons,"
he added, seizing upon the hammock, which just
then caught his eye suspended from the rafters.
"But the tent is much more cool and pleasant," I
remonstrated, "and it would pain me to have you
lodged midst this chaos of farming utensils."
"I have made a vow to sleep here this night," replied the self-willed Delfino, tightening the hammock
cords as he spoke. " Not only this night, but, if God
pleases, and you do not object, amigo mio, many
other nights. I intend to enlist under the flag of
Prince Plough and General Weeder, if you will consent to be my captain."
"I shall be proud of my soldier," I answered,
catching the light, laughinlg spirit of my self-elected
guest and pupil. "But you will please to remember




108     LIFr  IN  ST. Do IINGO.
that obedience is a primary military duty, and I, in
virtue of my captainship, insist on your instantly
taking up your quarters in the tent."
"Pardon me, captain," replied Delfino, throwing
himself into the hammock. "But it is a condition
precedent to enlistment, that no soldier can possibly
be ordered to commit such a scandalous breach of
military propriety as to usurp his officer's personal
quarters. Such an impossibility is out of the sphere
of discussion."
Finding Delfino immovable in his resolutions, I
left him in possession of the cabin and retired to my
tent for the night. When I awoke in the morning
it was already sunrise, and I started up in haste, to
prepare for my guest the early cup of coffee with
which the Dominicans begin the day. As I turned
the corner of the cabin to enter the arbor kitchen, I
beheld Delfino in high stir among the cups and coffee,
by the lighted fire. I well-nigh forgot the courtesy
of a morning salutation in my astonishment at the
grave intentness of his preoccupation.
"Do you propose studying camp cookery as well




L I F E  IN  ST. DOM I N GO.       109
as Yankee farming under my direction, Don Delfi.
no?" I inquired as I joined him.
"Drop all titles, and call me Delfino simply and
frankly, like a true friend and worthy instructor.
Learn camp cookery of you, my captain? No, it is
I who will have to teach you that delicate art.
Here, for example, I offer you a cup ol coffee worthy
the palate of a professor of agriculture."
"But really, Don Delfino"-I began, but I was
cut short with-" Really, my Captain, you should not
descend to these altercations with Delfino the pupil,
much less with Delfino the cook.  Sip your coffee in peace, and leave the culinary department to
me."
The coffee was disposed of, and the "weeder"
brought forth for duty without waste of time, for the
cool morning hours are precious in this climate. The
donkey was a rough and ragged concern of Juan's,
but, like all his race, patient and steady.
When he was fairly started, Delfino would hear of
nothing but taking the entire charge of weeding the
plat. "' Barro is in my line," said he. " We are




110     LIFE  IN  ST. DMINaGO.
brother Dominicans and perfectly understand each
other;" and away he went, driving the animal through
the close lines of beans, corn, ocra, and young tomatoes, with much more expertness than I had yet acquired in managing the beast.
We had to contrive a muzzle to prevent his nipping the tender plants right and left, but we finally
cured him of the trick, when Burro became-as he
did two weeks later-my own property.
The morning wore on, but Delfino, so far from being daunted by the heat and grime of this unusual
labor, was enchanted with his success. The ease
and perfection with which the light cultivator shears
off the weeds, and throws the loosened earth about
the roots of the plants, delighted him beyond measure. He entreated me to leave him alone to finish
the last remaining section of my March planting,
while I went along with the hoe among the borders
of ginger and arrowroot, edging the cross path of the
winter garden.
As Delfino really left me no option on that point,
I did as he wished.




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    111
Ginger and arrowroot resemble each other in their
long, bright, green leaves, somewhat like those of
the common garden lily, and besides the value of
their productive roots, they form a beautiful border
to walks and vegetable plats. I had collected the
bulbs from the grounds of my neighbors, but mainly
from Don Julio's garden, and the neat effect of these
miniature hedges, defining the pathways to the spring
and through the garden, had elicited flattering comments from Delfino.
I did not complete my task until the sun rode
almost noon high, but Delfino had already run the
"weeder" through every row of corn and vegetables
open to it, and was repeating the operation quite
needlessly, here and there, when I came to take Burro out of harness.
Juan had brought over the donkey very early, by
appointment, and I took occasion to send a private
hint to Anita that her aid would be welcome in providing a dinner for my visitor. I did not, therefore,
feel so much surprise as Delfino manifested, on finding a warm and not unpalatable meal ready for us




112     LIFE  IN  ST. DDoMING O.
when we returned to the cabin arbor to wash oftf the
dust of the morning's toil.
We were lounging away the usual after-dinner hour
of rest, chatting of books, politics, and farming in quiet
ease, Delfino always talking as if it was perfectly understood that I was to teach him all I knew myself
respecting the most improved implements of husbandry, when he suddenly renewed his proposal "to
commence his agricultural studies practically and
immediately."
" You do not think I am serious when I assure you
that I am anxious to live here and work for you a
month or two," said he, abruptly, dashing away his
cigar, and turning around with an air of almost
defiant determination, that startled me into sober
attention.
" You live here in this wild way, Don Delfino? A
gentleman of your habits and position undertake
to work for me? You must be dreaming —or I am,"
I exclaimed.
" Peter of Russia lived no better and worked as
hard among the shipwrights of Holland, when he




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    113
went to learn how to create a navy. Ile was an
Emperor, and had the power to build ships without
working on them himself, but I am only a plain Dominican planter, and there is no way for me to acquire
the capacity to create such a place as I want, and
such as I mean to possess, unless. I put my own eyes
and hands to the work."
"But my arrangements are so miserably inadequate," I continued, glancing at the obvious poverty
of my domestic surroundings.
"Never fear for that," answered Delfino, gayly;
"' what we cannot amend we will endure. Let us fancy ourselves travellers exploring a newly-discovered
country. We will rejoice together over the difficulties we conquer and the novelties we win, instead of
repining for what we have voluntarily left behind."
"Be it as you will," I said at last, finding argument useless; "but let me warn you," I added, seriously, " that mine is a workingman's life in hard
earnest. I am a poor man struggling to make a
home, and my steady toil and coarse fare cannot suit
one of your habits."




114     LIFE  IN  ST. D         OMINGO.
"Try me," replied Delfino, laughing. " You have
no right to set me down as an idle gourmand, incapable of useful efforts, until you have measured me
fairly. But here comes one of our friend Julio's
servants, to remind us that we sup with him this
evening. "
Delfino replied to the message for both of us, but
he would not start for Don Julio's until after he had
made the round of my fruit-trees in the afternoon.
The pulpy custard apple, the delicate caimeto, and
the refreshing soursop, were full of ripe, delicious
fruit. These were the old trees which I had relieved
of dead limbs and the suffocating thicket of January,
and they now loom up grandly on the left side of the
Buena Vista Mound.
"That clump of lofty and spreading trees would
be an ornament to the finest grounds in America," I
observed to Delfino; "such groups are very common here; yet few Dominicans seem to appreciate
their beauty, or value the luxury -of a succession
of choice fruits the whole year through."
"It is human nature to undervalue blessings so




LIFE  IN   ST. DoMINGO.    115
freely bestowed," said Delfino: "but what is all
this? Have you a hospital of maimed and bandaged
trees?"
He had stopped to examine my grafted orangetrees. I explained the process, of which he had read
something, but now saw for the first time in operation. The grafts were putting forth their fresh
crowns, and all were doing well.
"'You will have abundance of oranges in two or
three years," said Delfino, at the close of my explahations, "but are not these trees too close together?"
" I hope to transplant them, about the close of this
month, in a double line along the walk I am laying
off from the spring to Buena Vista-the site, if God
prospers the wish, of my future dwelling."
" I too will plant an orange avenue this very year,"
said Delfino, as we walked back to the house. "It
must wait, however, till our corn-fields are planted,
for we cannot be sure of two full crops before December, if the April planting is not a foot high the
first morning in May."




116     LIFE  IN  ST. Do MINGo.
We went together to sup and sleep at Don Julio's,
and to talk over with him Delfino's project of working
awhile with me at Buena Vista. Don Julio enjoyed
the idea exceedingly, and pointed out means for several minor accommodations, which we acted upon at
once.
Anita, for example, was engaged as a sort of day
housekeeper, and Delfino observed that he had an active, intelligent young man named Isidro on his place,
who should be sent down immediately, with a stout
horse for the single plough, to learn the art of
ploughing in company with his master.
All this was speedily settled upon, and after a flying visit home Delfino himself joined us in two days
after, and with this force the farming business went
on rapidly. The heavy ox plough went through all
its share of the work in ten days. Delfino and I
ploughed in the forenoon, and Isidro took his turn in
the afternoon.
The "brush harrow" which I improvised, in default of the legitimate article, amused Delfino hugely.
It would have been a sight to a gentleman farmer




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    117
of the United States to see him managing his horse
with this immense bundle of brush on one side of
the ploughed ground, while I followed him with the
donkey, "marking" off the corn-rows. This, and
planting the corn, was our afternoon's work when it
did not rain, and in three days after Don Julio's oxen
were sent home my ground was all seeded in. Juan
and Anita volunteered their aid-she in dropping
and he in covering the corn, as fast as Delfino harrowed and I marked off the ground. So many hands
made speedy work, and Delfino never flagged until
the ploughing and planting were fully and thoroughly finished.
IMy crop is now well above ground. Don Delfino
and his man Isidro left me to return home this
morning,-I am writing these last lines on May-day
eve,-and with them went my heavy plough, on a
six weeks' loan.
On average returns my corn, which in this climate
ought to be in market in September, will pay for
clearing and planting twenty acres more by October.
Mfeanwhile, I have an abundant supply of vegetables




118     LIFE  IN  ST. Do MINGO.
for my own use, and also to exchange with my neighbors for the eggs, poultry, honey, and cassava bread
which they bring to me almost every evening.  Tliey
lost the dry season, because they scorned the labor
of making and tending seedling beds. The care of a
garden through the dry months they thought an
unprofitable toil, yet they do not scruple to barter
with me for my overplus of products, in return for
many little comforts which I want of them, on what
is to me a most convenient and profitable system of
exchange.
By the middle of April, I had almost every variety
of vegetables that is to be found in the New York
markets in June; and therefore it is I wish to note,
that whoever is willing to devote to it a few days'
labor, may keep up a constant supply the whole year
in this favored climate.
Four months have fled by, like a pleasant though
busy dream, since I laid myself down to my first
night's repose in my " homestead." The Giver of all
good gifts has crowned my poor efforts with His
tender mercies, and as I look up from these pages to




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMalINGO.    119
glance through the arcade of fruit-yielding trees, and
onward to the gentle hill-side, now green with
springing corn, and beautiful in the promise of futare abundance, I feel a fervent and grateful trustfar, far too deep for my weak powers of utterance
-that He will never forsake the humble and trustful
laborer in this fair field of Iis creation.




120    LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
CHAPTER VI.
M1AY.
Fresh encouragemont.-Site for a new  house.-The Mango
Avenue.-A "trifling incident."-A rustic gate. —A shipwrecked sailor.-What in search of.-Visit from Captain Ramirez of
the " Alice."-Satisfactory solution of a puzzling question.-Amarket for my vegetables.-Don Julio.-Ambitious projects.Picturesque scenes. —Twenty-two kinds of fruits on my homestead.-An alluring picture.-An important addition to my
revenue. I hire two native woodmen.-The "New Field."Grateful acknowledgments.
THE labors of the preceding months begin to speak
encouragingly to the eye and the heart. My crop is
waving greenly around me; I rest securely in the
trustworthiness of my fences, and my fruit-trees are
thriving to my entire satisfaction.  From May to October, the season of almost daily rains, is the proper
time  for transplanting  fruit-trees and  shrubbery.
During five months, when all planting is intermitted
throughout the United States, the farmer in the trop



L IFE  IN  ST. DOIINGCG.    121
ics may keep on the whole period, putting in corn,
cotton, sugar, and other crops, perfectly certain that
they will all ripen to advantage in the last fall and
first winter months, and that he will be sure to have
delightful weather through most of January, and all
of February and March, to gather in his successive
harvests, and send them to market.
I have so much work before me which I must conquer single-handed-or be conquered by it-that I
could scarcely hope to give more than eight or ten
days of May to my favorite project, which is to lay
out my grounds, and plant a large assortment of
fruits early in the season.
I was anxious, also, about the means of clearing,
fencing, and planting the southern portion of my
homestead; not only because it is the richest and
most level ground, and its profits needful to my support, but because opening it up would widen my sea
prospect, let in more of the sea-breeze, and improve
the health of the place, if it has any defects in that
way. There are about twenty acres in this tract
and much of it heavily timbered, so it was no light
6




122  ]LIFr   IN  ST. DOMINGO.
task for me to undertake with the scattering half
day's help I might receive from Juan. Yet without
breaking over one of my strictest self-imposed rules
and running into the slavery of debt I saw no other
way before me.
While meditating on this, I did not slacken my
efforts to forward the work in hand, and went on
preparing the ground for setting out long avenues of
fruit-trees, for the comfort and adornment of my
future house. The house itself is far in the future,
years perhaps, but meantime, the site being chosen,
and its frontage, if not its dimensions, well settled in
mind, every tree and shrub can be placed in accordance with this centre and pivot of the general plan.
The trees may be growing up, during this interval
into shady avenues, and the shrubs may go on maturing in order and beauty, so that if there does come to
me a day in which I can sit down to rest under my
own commodious roof; all these surroundings will
have ripened into a happy fitness, and make a complete and harmonious whole.
The " New Road" we had cut to bring Port Pal



LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.               123
enque into connection with the great coast highway,
and the hamlets of Savanna Grande limits my land
on that side, and naturally constitutes the base line
of my programme of improvements. My hoped for
dwelling-the darling air-castle of my secret thoughts
-must outlet upon this road, and it must also face
the sea breeze.
This establishes my points of departure for every
line of tree planting and field fencing.
I am more than contented with the building site
accorded to me. Buena Vista, crowning an airy eminence, with its pure, unfailing spring at no unreasonable distance, is far enough retired from the road to
insure tranquillity, but not too far for convenient access. Here then I find my natural centre of operations and proper place of beginning.
I opened a clear lane, thirty feet wide, from the
house site to the road, and there I constructed a
rude gate. Patiently, painfully, steadily, I labored
five days on that strip of ground; clearing out the
smaller stumps and reducing the larger ones to the
level of the ground, until the grade was complete




124     LIFE  I N  ST. DOMIN GO.
and every serious obstacle removed. Along the road
and running off in a line, on each side of the gate, I
transplanted three almond-trees, selected from a cluster which I had stumbled upon in our clearings and
preserved for this purpose.
The almendra, or wild almond, is a superb tree,
of very rapid growth, and in three or four years a
row of half a dozen on the line of the road will form
a really ornamental shade to the homestead entrance.
From the gate up to the front of the house site, I
planted a double line of mangoes, twenty feet apart,
seven each side of the avenue. The oriental mango
is a magnificent shade tree-to my mind it has no
peer North or South-never changing, winter or summer, the deep-toned richness of its dense foliage,
always yielding a peculiarly grateful shade, and rarely
failing to give an abundance of delicious fruit in May
and June, for it is a most generous bearer. From
these fourteen mangoes I may-if alive and hereconfidently hope to gather fruit in three years,
when they will probably be something like twenty
feet high. They are now only about twenty inches




LIFE  IN  ST. D OMINGO.    125
above ground, but they are sturdy growers. Don
Julio has a pair of mangoes of which four years ago
this month he put the seed in the ground, after eating the fruit at dinner. They are now loaded with
golden fruit, and very nearly if not quite twenty feet
high. From them I took the hint of my "mango
avenue," and from his garden I also transplanted my
young trees.
The preparation of the ground and the planting of
thirty-six trees which I had collected here and there
amongst my neighbors, ran away with the first week
of May.
After the day's work was over, I would use the
evening to forage the neighborhood for every
variety of fruit-tree and ornamental shrub I could
muster. My chief object was to secure a succession of at least three varieties of fruit-fresh and
good for my own trees-for every week of the
year. Another, though of course secondary, design
was to dot the circular crest of Buena Vista with
a line of flowering shrubs; not high enough to exclude the sea view, but sufficiently so to define the




126    iLIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
circuit of the house-grounds, while it regaled the
senses with the beauty and fragrance of ever renewed blossoms.
A trifling incident stimulated me into a settled
plan, and a persevering course of effort, to obtain
a handsome array of ornamental plants, by teaching
me the facility with which it could be accomplished.
The first Sabbath I awoke in this new home of mine
I caught with the rising dew the sweet odor of roses.
On looking around I discovered, almost under the
eaves of the old cabin, a bush of deep crimson roses,
crushed nearly out of sight by the entangling vines of
a passion flower. I tore the vines apart and the next
morning I cut some forked stakes and cross rods to
frame a rustic trellis for the passion flower. The vine
bears generously and its thick foliage screens, as I
am now writing, the roost of a pair of fine guinea
fowls.- The rose was left to grow in grace and bloom
in luxuriant freedom by its side.
This was early in January, and now, at the close of
May, my hardy rose is still crowned with flowers.
How long it will continue in bearing I cannot say,




LIFE  IN  ST. Do MINGO.    127
but for the past five months it certainly has never
been more than three days at a time without blossoms. This country is so kindly and fertile in vines
and shrubbery that any man who will give a few
hours work in these pleasant May mornings, for
planting, and an occasional half hour through the
summer for training and pruning the over luxuriance
of stem and sprout, may convert the roughest cabin
into a bower of beauty.
The God-given luxuries of fruits and flowers are
almost as free as air on the Dominican soil, and he is
an ingrate who declines the use of the beneficent gifts.
The poorer the homestead, the more need of these
softening adornments. They cost nothing but the
trouble of planting them in proper mode and season,
wherever you wish to have them. I had many more
offered to me than I have space and leisure to do justice to, in return for the little gifts of early vegetables,
which the moist soil of my winter garden enables me
to distribute among my neighbors in all April.
But I must leave my ornamentals and return to
the " utilities."




128     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
In clearing off the logwood thicket on the
southern brow  of Buena Vista, there remained a
mass of small stuff, whose innumerable stumps,
though quick to decay, would forbid the use of the
plough the first season.  Not to entirely lose the
use of the ground, I planted it with asparagus beans
directly after burning it over, leaving the stems of
suitable size for the vines to run on. In the more
open spaces Juan, of his own notion, made any number of calaccbaza hills, and the vines of this superior
tropical pumpkin had completely overrun the slope,
by the time I was ready to lay off the Mango Avenue.
I headed off and turned aside all that could be
saved of the blossoming calabazas, but those exactly
in the line of the tree planting had to be sacrificed.
On examining the planting more critically, I came
to my asparagus beans, and was astonished to find
them loaded with green clusters, nearly ready for
the table. Before this, I had wondered what could
be done with the superabundance of oera, tomato,
egg-plant, sweet pepper, and a host of minor relishes,




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO 0.    129
crowding and overflowing every foot of space around
my tent. The coming crop of beans, green corn,
cabbages, and sweet potatoes, would be a little
fortune to a New York gardener, but here it seemed
a question whether I should give them to my neighbors or feed them to Burro, the donkey.
This puzzle received a sudden and satisfactory
solution, and that, too, in a way which also settled in
my favor the really anxious doubt whether I should
be able to clear and fence my twenty acre field in
time to realize a crop in December.
Two of my neighbors had promised to assist me in
setting up the gate I had constructed to open upon
the "New Road" from my enlarged Home Field.
But on the morning appointed neither of them came,
and Juan failed me also until late in the forenoon.
It was hard work for us two, and the harder as we
were both unpractised hands, but somehow we had
got the posts in, and were tugging at the gate when
a young man in sailor garb sauntered up the road
with a basket on his arm.
He made a stand at the gateway, whistling a
6*




130    LIFE  IN  ST. DOMIN GO.
polka, for a minute or two, with a tantalizing air, and
was about turning away when I asked him, in Spanish, to help us adjust the gate on its hinges.
"Don't understand that lingo," he retorted in
English, "but I suppose you want me to bear a
hand."
Throwing down his basket with the word, he put
his shoulder to the gate and soon it swung freely in
its place.
The stranger turned out to be a British sailor lately wrecked on this coast, but with the ready adaptability of a thorough tar he had sought and found
employment on board the coasting sloop Alice. I-e
was delighted to find a vent for his English tongue
and heart, but no more than I was to listen to the
outpouring of the flood. He volunteered the information that he was on an independent cruise in
search of eggs, plantains, fruits, any thing eatable, in
short, for the sloop's crew in part, but mostly, he
said, on his own account. The captain had told him
that neither fruits nor vegetables were to be bought
about Palenque, but he chose to make the attempt,




LIFE  IN  ST. DoMINGO.    131
and he added that "having struck a straight road
and brought up against a sound bit of English, he
had faith in finding a blessed lot of parsnips and
potatoes somewhere about."
I could not answer for the parsnips and potatoes
under six weeks, but engaged to fill his bask-et with
sundry other vegetables as soon as we had arranged
the fastenings for the gate, which by the way, were
in hand while this chat was going on.
That done, he went home with me, where the
basket was filled and a water-melon for his captain
added to the load, after he had tried one on his own
account, with an invitation to call for more as often
as the Alice came into Palenque. In return, Brentthat is the name he gave himself-promised to bring
back on the next trip some trifles I required from
Santo Domingo City, and on this we parted, mutually pleased with the encounter.
How Brent reported the affair to Captain Ramirez
of the Alice, I am unable to say, but the result was a
visit from him to my place in the evening, and a
proposal to buy at a fair price all the fruits and




132     LIFE  IN  ST. Do-rINGo.
vegetables of good class I had to spare for the city
market of Santo Domingo.
The winter season had been more than usually dry,
and every thing of the kind was in demand. The
Alice is making about two trips a week to Santo
Domingo and back, coming mainly for satin wood
and mahogany, which Don Julio and some of his
wealthy friends are shipping to Europe in large
quantities. While the Alice is loading, Ramirez
collects his little venture of country commodities to
sell in the city for his private profit. Hence his proposal to buy my surplus garden-stuff, which came so
opportunely to my relief.
The sale of this surplus seems a very trifling matter, but I am not rich enough to despise small things,
so I gladly accepted the experiment. Captain Ramirez on his part, sent up a pair of old china crates, and
in them, in cool beds of fresh leaves, Juan, Anita, the
children, all hands of us, bestirred ourselves to pack
the choicest fruits of the garden. Burro made an
odd figure with his tall load, travelling down our
straight lane to the landing.




LIF'E  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    13
Just then my wealthy friend, Don Julio, rode by,
and reined up his fine horse, to compliment me on
my new gate. He asked with his eyes the destination of this unusual set-out-he is by far too courteous to put the question in words.
I had for a moment the unmanly cowardice to be
ashamed of the pettiness of the speculation. A
second's thought restored my faltering manhood,
and I briefly explained the matter to Don Julio.
"On my word of honor, we of the plains should
raise a statue to you, my friend," exclaimed Don
Julio, as he reined his horse out of the way of B3urro
and his load. "This fertile district ought to feed
the city of Santo Domingo, as well as half the sugar
plantations depending on it, and the striikng success
of the superior care which you bestow on whatever
you cultivate, may teach our people in the rich vales
of Palenque how to supply the city market and live
in comfort on the profits."
"You are the most encouraging of friends, lon
Julio," I answered, opening the gate for him to
pass; "but I doubt much whether it will be very




134     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
profitable to raise vegetables in Palenque, for consumption thirty miles distant at Santo Domingo."
"I assure you that I have no doubt about it-not
the shadow of a doubt," replied Don Julio, throwing himself from his horse and leaving his servant
in charge of it outside, while he entered the gate
with me for a walk through the clearing. He was
astonished at the changed appearance of the place,
and insisted on hearing in detail every item of my
plans.
I led him directly up the broad line, marked off
for the Mango Avenue, to the house-site, explaining
as we went why, and where, and how, I proposed
to carry on my improvements. The questions and
remarks of Don Julio were, and ever are, so full
of intelligent appreciation and instructive comment,
that I always- feel clearer and stronger in my course
of labors after one of his visits, short as they generally are.
But on that day he was disposed to stay out, and
see out, the whole measure of my ambitious projects.




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMIN G.    135
The house-site is. covered for the present by a
thick carpet of calabaza vines, already gay with
great yellow blossoms; but the front is marked out
by a range of millet running off on each side of the
open space left bare for the Mango Avenue.
On the right, a four-fold row of stakes indicated
the pathway to the spring and the places soon to
be occupied by my grafted oranges, which, however,
I did not intend to move before the end of the
month. The projected Orange Walk skirts the beautiful group of fruit-trees, giants of their kind, that
have attracted my loving care from the first.
On the left slope, but more to the front, and
throwing their broad masses of shade over the housesite, is another magnificent grove of fruit-trees.
These were buried in the forest that had grown up
around them since the halls of Buena Vista were
given to the flames in the negro insurrection, when
the estate was abandoned by its masters.
One hesitates to describe the grandeur of these
superb trees to persons unacquainted with the
majesty of tropical vegetation. When we cleared




136     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
the wilderness from around them, they towered so
far above every thing I had ever seen in an orchard,
that they seemed more like the loftiest lords of the
forest than the lowlier fruit-bearing servants of
civilization. Don Julio smiles at my excessive pride
in these trees, but admits that their fruit is agreeable
and that they beautify the scene.
Still more to the left, and straggling down to the
road, in a picturesque cluster, is, first, an immense
tamarind, then two larger but ragged custard
apples-which, however, the pruning-knife and saw
are gradually reducing to fair proportions-and close
upon them, is a group of wild plums, in a line with
the fence, and flanking the three almonds newly
planted on that side of the gate.
Back of this belt of high, out-spreading trees, is a
longer but lower belt of limes, pomegranates, guava
and coffee trees. These were only rescued from the
encroaching chapparal in February, and yet they are
already rich in blossoms and ripening fruit. The
guavas have been bearing all the while, though in
snmall quantities, and the plums, also, yielded me




I,  FE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    137
more than I and Juan's children could possibly use
during March, but their improvement since pruning is
marvellous. The limes supply my refreshing noonday beverage, and bid fair, like the guavas and
pomegranates, to give plenty of fruit the whole year
round.
The guava and pomegranate are, both of them,
as healthful as they are palatable, and it is a most
agreeable addition to my coarse fare to have these
refreshing fruits and my cool lemonade always at
command at the mid-day hours of indoor rest.
This fringe of smaller trees and shrubbery is intermingled with some very aged coffee-trees, and the
whole is evidently the offspring of the original embellishments of Buena Vista. I am continuing this
verdant border in a broad hedge-like sweep around
the brow of the eminence and down the slope, until
it merges in the " Fruit Grove " on the margin of the
spring. There it will join the Orange Walk, that
is to be, and complete a circle of ever-blossoming
ever-bearing, fruit-trees, not less than four hundred
yards in circuit.




138     LIFE  IN  ST. DoMINGO.
Even now the only considerable break in the line
of shade is on the slope between what I have named
the Spring Grove and the beginning of the Guava
Thicket, and even that fragment of open space is partially filled by two trees standing side by side, apart
from the rest, and in superb contrast with each
other. One is an old bread-fruit tree, somewhat
tattered when I first saw it, but now tossing
abroad its great bright green leaves like banners of
pride, amid the deep glossy foliage of the tall guarn
abana at its side. The guanabana lavished its refreshing fruit of " consolidated lemonade " all through
February and March, but it ceased bearing in April,
and went into an extravagant profusion of queer little
buds which, by courtesy have to be accepted as blossoms, and which will not ripen into fruit before mid
summer.
The custard-apple and guanabana fill the space between the caimete-which abounds in February and
M3iarch-and the mango, which is the rich and generous gift of June and July. The orange runs from
September to May, but it is not plentiful in the first




LIFE  IN  ST. D OM I NGO.    139
and last months of its regular season. There are
oranges of some kinds all the year, but the Dominlean season for the large, unequalled " sweet orange':
is mainly included in the seven months between Sep
tember and 3May. All the other months have their
own rich and varied fruits, and my trees in April and
May have been peculiarly bounteous in custardapples and guanabanas, in addition to several other
fruits which are continuing on from January, February, and 3March, to the present moment.
If I dwell too much on the charms of my tropical
fruit groves, and on the labors of love I devote to
them, Don Julio Perez should bear half the censure.
Whenever he breaks into Buena Vista he forces me
away from every thing else to look at and talk about
them. Two or three times a week he rides over or
sends a servant with something new to plant, which
perhaps he has obtained miles away.
I had noted in my diary twenty kinds of fruit-bearing trees and shrubs, already here in maturity or
lately transplanted, when on this, the very last working day of the month, he rushed upon me in the midst




140     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
of a rainy afternoon with a donkey load of plantain
and banana roots. Juan received them in dismay, for
he had just finished setting out a row of pine-apples
which he had found running wild in an abandoned
cane-field, and wanted to go home. Don Julio
would not hear of it, until the plantains were all in
the ground. His own servant was directed to take
a hoe, and every man of us had to bend to the work
while the light lasted. I fancy Don Julio never
before did so much manual labor in one day since he
was born, but he held to it bravely till the last
banana was fairly settled in the bosom of mother
earth, by the fading twilight. Then he began to
rally me on "wasting so much time and trouble in
getting so much more than enough of what nature
alone would supply in sufficiency, without vexing the
earth with extra cares."
Yet these "extra cares" have certainly more than
doubled the fruit yield of Buena Vista, and on every
arrival of the Alice from Santo Domingo, Captain
Ramairez calls for more than I can supply, both of
fruit and vegetables.




LIFE  IN  ST. D OMINGO.    141
With a thankful heart I note, that even the little I
have done, and am doing, in these small matters, has
relieved my mind of a most anxious doubt as to the
feasibility of clearing and fencing the twenty acre lot,
in season to plant a crop for December.
These little labors are paying for my large clearing. The garden returns are not magnificent. A
Russian Prince or still less, an army contractor
might not regard it as an important addition to his
revenues, but to me it was a precious step towards
an early, though humble independence.
It enabled me to hire two experienced native
woodmen to cut down the timber, and make ready
the fencing for my new field, while I went on with
the lighter labors of my fruit and garden work: and
in that too, it gave me the means to pay a stout,
serviceable man to assist during the latter part of the
month in completing the planting and other improve,
ments in my " Home Lot," including the garden.
Thus I have had three laborers for two-thirds of
the busy month of May, in return for my own industry and " extra efforts."




142     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
The " New Field" is rough and bristling with the
stumps of the felled woodlands, but my Home Lot is
one wide, waving landscape of rich-toned verdure;
and again at the close of this month, I add the last
page to my notes for May, with devout thanks to the
All-Giver for his manifold bounties.




LIFE   IN   ST. DOM INGO.                 143
CHAPTER VII.
JUNE.
Rapid growth of vegetation.-No labor equal to white labor.What machinery will do in the tropics.-National bread of
the Island.-Description  of the cassava and the arapa.Indian fashion of baking.-Yuca and yams.-Delightful visit
from Delfino.-Ie discovers a new treasure.-A spirited discussion.-Resolve to maintain my "humble independence."-Delfino proposes an October banquet.-Where to come off.-Am
greatly surprised.-Visit to the wood-cutters.-Delfino's anger.
-An unhappy discovery. —Howthe difficulty is arranged.Mahogany.-Satin-wood.-A new cottage resolved on.-How
it was planned.
THE rapid growth of vegetation almost exceeds belief. Twice in May, and again in June, I had to rum
the donkey "weeder" through and  through every
corn row. Ten or twelve days were sufficient to
cover the ground again with a green carpet of weeds
and springing grass.  My neighbors assured me that
one such thorough weeding was enough, but I was




14      L I F E  IN  ST. D OMI N GO.
not of their opinion; I wanted the whole strength of
the sun and soil for the full development of the
children of my care, and they have repaid me generously.
Those who say the treasures of the tropics are
to be best won by the brute force of ignorant labor,
cannot have studied with sufficient patience the
march of invention.
Intelligent laborers; men who know how to make
wood and iron perform the severest part, to the
sparing of human sinews; men who can work steam
in harness, these are what is wanted here.
Those, too, are mistaken who fancy that no skin
but a black one can cover the firm muscle and vigorous endurance of a perfect and hardy manhood.  The
most manly workers I have seen in this country are
white men. I will not cite my well-born and wealthy
friend, Delfino, because he is not habitually a working man, but apart from him the few who have good
farms of their own tilling are mostly white men.
They and they only know how to obtain and use
the best class of labor-saving machines, and they are




LIFE  IN   ST. DOMINGO.    145
too  prudent to trust any one but themselves to
mnanage them, for they know that superior implements, and the recklessness of brute force don't
work well together. Under the warm  sun of the
tropics, intelligent working men and machinery will
yet open the grandestjield of civilization ever realized.
Even in such a small matter as hoeing a corn-field,
this is illustrated. Without violent labor I do as
much clearing in a short forenoon with my little
donkey cultivator as three good field-hands will accomplish in the whole day, and do the work much
more effectually. Rating Burro and myself as equal
to a pair of Dominicans, the cultivator, which neither
eats, sulks, nor runs away (to which as a class they
are subject), counts for four common hands, which
are subject to all those defects —the cultivator, I repeat, fairly counts for four laborers and asks no wages.
It must also be remembered that, over and above the
gain in time, the crops are better in quality, and far
more secure from extremes of rain and drought, for
the well and deeply stirred soil affords the roots ease
and space to bury themselves out of reach of danger.
7




146     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
Captain Ramirez gives the best price for my fruits, as
well as for my melons, corn, beans, ocra, tomatoes,
and vegetables generally, not only because, to use
his own words, "there is enough of them to be
worth coming for, but on account of their fine size
and condition, which excels any thing to be seen from
other fields, not even excepting those of the fertile
plains of Palenque."
The corn ears are now so full and forward that I
am cutting them-and at so near the close of the
month I may say I have cut them, as fast as the kernels were well glazed. The housewives of Santo
Domingo prefer it at this stage of ripeness, for making that most delicate of hoe-cakes, arapa. Thus my
five acres of corn have netted me, outside of my own
labor, but including the price of Burro-I paid for
him just sixteen dollars-a clear two hundred dollars.
This two hundred dollars, minus the sixteen, leaves
me sufficient to pay for a milch cow and a strong
working mule, and I have yet a surplus to cover the
thatching of my new work-room. But as that is not
yet half built, we will leave it to its own proper




LI FE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    147
season, and turn back to the national breads of this
island.
The Spanish conquerors found two excellent varieties of bread in great plenty among the natives of
Hayti, and the Indian names, as well as the articles,
continue in popular use to this day. One kind is the
cassava, which is made of the bulbous root of the
yuca, ground and baked in large thin cakes; the
other is the arapa, which is composed of young corn
mixed with an equal quantity of cocoa-nut grated
fresh. The whole is moistened to a proper consistency by the milk of the cocoa-nut, and then folded in
banana leaves and baked before the fire, which is the
Indian fashion of bread-baking, from snowy Maine to
burning Yucatan, before and since the advent of the
white race.
It is not difficult for a farmer here to keep up a
succession of corn and yuca crops during the entire
year, and one man's labor might easily feed a hundred persons, not merely with cassava and arapa,
but with as large and as palatable a variety of fruits,
grains, and vegetables as can be found, whether native




148     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
or naturalized, in any one section of the habitable
globe.
Yuca and yams are the equivalents of the Northern potatoes for table use, and, under a system of
thorough ploughing, are still more profitable crops
than corn, but they require a much longer time for
ripening. My corn was in market in three months
firom the planting, but the yuca will require from six
to eight months, and the yams will not be ripe under
nine or ten months.
Next to cotton, and better than sugar, taking one
year with another, is a good yam crop, but its enormous roots require deep ploughing, such as Americans provide for their potatoes to expandin. But
that is what no one in this country thinks of, and,
consequently, there is no such thing here as a respectable yam field.
I planted about sixty hills for my own supply, and
Juan says I will have to take them  out with a
"stump puller," they will run so deep in the soft
ground broken up by the ox plough.
Juan has made a friendly acquaintance with the




L IrFE  IN  ST. DOMII NG o.    149
plough and cultivator, but the " Stump2 Extractor"
he cannot get within the grasp of his comprehension,
although in answer to his anxious inquiries I have
labored diligently to explain how it manages to persuade the stumps out of the embraces of Mother
Earth.
This month has been brightened by a visit from
Delfino. He came down to Palenque to receive a
sugar mill and other machinery which he had ordered from the lUnited States. Besides his own everwelcome self, he brought back my heavy plough in
time for me to plant yuca in the ground from which
I am cutting off the earliest corn. His cheering
helpfulness and his judicious, intelligent experience
are to my soul what these June showers and sunshine
are to my labors-life and youth.
I could offer him a slightly improved table, for I
have now chickens, eggs, and a milch goat to help out
our fare, but he would not stop in-doors long enough
to take more than a slice of water-melon, he was in
such a hurry to see what I had accomplished in his
absence.




150     LIFE  IN  ST. DoMIN Go.
We went first to the house-site, by the new
Orange Walk, then on to the gate by the Mango
Avenue, and back through the circular border of mingled fruits to the spring grove by the tent. The frequent afternoon rains —it seldom rains in the forenoon
at any season of the year in this part of Santo Domingo
-but the abundant evening showers had brought
out every thing beautifully, and all the place wore its
brightest and freshest looks.
The green corn stalks yet waved their long leaves
in their places, for Captain Ramirez had bargained
for them with a stable keeper in Santo Domingo, and
the time of delivery was yet ten days ahead. The
walks were green with close cut grass, the little
travel they had, barely marking a path in the
centre.
" What an immensity of work has been done here,"
said Delfino gazing up and down the clearing. " You
have several hands now, Julio tells me."
" Only two, and they are in the woodland clearing
my new field," I answered. " My garden and cornfield have turned out so well, that I can employ two




LIFE  IN  ST. Do LINGO.    151
men steadily with the proceeds, but I keep them at
cutting timber and making fence. I have had a
third man part of the time in this home lot, but mainly to assist in laying out the ground and planting the
trees. "
"I should think it fair work for one man to keep
the weeds and grass cut down so close and even in
these broad walks. They take up considerable
room," said Delfino, as he turned back towards the
hut.
" Burro does not find the walks too extensive," I
answered, smiling at Delfino's Dominican ideas of
wasting land.
" Why surely you do not allow the donkey to run
in them among your tender trees?" he asked in
surprise.
"Certainly not. I know very well that Burro
would browse off my young trees in a day. There
he is, you see, picketed under those large fruit-trees
by the spring, and I will show you how he is interested in the breadth of the walks."
Taking down the strong bladed "weed scythe"




152     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
which I had brought with me, I mowed the grass off
a few yards of the walk, and this, with half a dozen
blades of corn, made Burro's meal.
Delfino seized the scythe before I could hang it in
its place, poised and swayed it in the idle air for a
moment, and then made at the grassy walk with such
a vigorous demonstration that I was soon obliged to
interfere.
"There, that will do, Delfino," I said, laying strong
hands on the scythe, " you have cut enough for Burro's breakfast and dinner to-morrow, and he likes his
herb supper perfectly fresh. Even a donkey prefers
fresh food to stale."
"Very well, I give it up now, but I claim the
right, as your pupil, you know, to cut all the grass
Burro eats while I am here. I must learn how to
use this admirable novelty."
How strange to me this term  "novelty," for a
common scythe. Yet in this country it is, in very
truth, something entirely new.
"In learning to use it, my dear Delfino, you must
also learn how to take care of it, and keep it in order,




L IFE  IN   ST. DO   IN GO.    153
or it will soon be good for nothing. Delfino assented.
and we went through the whole process of grinding
and whetting it before he would sit down to supper.
In the morning I gave him a practical lesson with
the scythe, by allowing him to mow the fringe of
grass and weeds along the fence. The grass in all
the walks is specially reserved for Burro, and is
freshly cut bit by bit, for him when he is kept up for
work. By the time I have gone over them all, from
end to end, in this piecemeal way, the grass has
started up so well at the place of beginning, that I
can begin over again to repeat the cutting.
Delfino came to breakfast much exhilarated with his
success in handling the scythe. He wonders much,
and so do I, that this simple yet efficient implement
has never been introduced in Santo Domingo.
"You Americans know how to make wood and
steel do three-quarters of your work in every thing,
and that is the reason why you are not afraid to un
dertake so much of it," said Delfino. "Your improvements here are, in truth, miraculous."' I assure you, Delfino, that any American farmer
7*




154     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
would think very lightly of this small pattern of a
place, and none, but a very poor one, like myself,
would be contented with such a limited showing for
a crop. I, however, am satisfied and grateful, for,
with nothing but my own hands and this moderate
outfit of farming implements, I believe myself in a fair
way to achieve a real though humble independencethanks to you, my friend, and to Don Julio."
"'Thanks to nobody!" exclaimed Delfino quickly.
"You have your homestead secured, and enough
even now coming out of the ground to support you.
But let me tell you, amigo mio, that first of all
things, you must build a house. Your tent will not
hold out this rainy season."
" It must do, Delfino, this year, at least. It ought
to be good enough for me, when no better tents are
the only shelter of thousands of gallant men who
perhaps are less inured to hardship than I am."
"That is no reason why you-and they, too, fbr
that matter- should not have houses when they can
be had," replied Delfino.
" In my case, a house cannot be had," I answered,




LIFIF, IN  ST. DO M I N G o.    155
decidedly. "M My first care is to improve my fields
and create the means for a sure and steady support.
Meanwhile this shelter will serve my purpose."
"I see you have gained another step towards independence. You are raising your own breadstuffs,"
said Delfino, abruptly turning the conversation, and
pouncing upon the hot arapa which Anita brought
in with the omelet and coffee.
While we were at breakfast, Anita, my infallible
reliance on company occasions, was on duty, and
her fresh corn cakes justified the pleasant pride she
manifested in them.
"Yes, I now raise my own bread and corn," I
replied, " and in due time I hope to have a regular
abundance of cassava."
" I glanced at your yuca while I was mowing, and
it seems uncommonly forward," said Delfino. " Prince
Plough and General Weeder have fairly buried Miss
Yuca under their magnificent bounties. She is now
rich, and invites me to a banquet of fresh cassava, inlet us reflect —yes, we may say, in October, is it not
so, mi amigo?"




15(6    LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
"Certainly," I answered, laughing.  "The first
cassava cake from my own fields, the first pair of
chickens and the first fatling kid of my own raising,
shall be kept to grace your welcome."
"Thank you, and please add to them  the first
arrow-root custard, and the first glass of ginger-wine
made from your own garden? I stipulate for these
also," persisted Delfino, with a comically serious air.
"; Good! The arrow-root custard shall not be
wanting; neither shall the ginger-wine, though I confess I have not the faintest idea in what way I shall
manufacture it."
" Oh, if the wit to make it don't come to you by
nature-and it seems to me the art to do every thing
they choose to do is born with the Yankees," laughed
Delfino, " our Julio's mayoral will teach you how to
make it. He has an extraordinary capacity for producing our country wines-and a greater one for drinking them-but you need not be too exacting with
him about that part of it," he added, rising from the
table.
"Oh, you may count on the wine also, Delfino; I




LIFE  IN  ST. Do  IN G.    157
will accomplish it," I said, as I followed him to the
outside of the tent.
"But neither the cassava, nor the custard, nor the
wine is to be thought of in any other place than your
new house. Understand that perfectly, amigo mio, I
must find you in the new house, and nowhere else,
on my next visit, or we shall have words about it."
"My new house, Delfino! You must be dreaming. A new house in October is, for me, simply an
impossibility, unless, indeed, you have brought Aladdin's lamp in your pocket."
Delfino lit his cigar and deigned no further reply.
Presently he came up whistling to assist me in getting Burro in gear for his and my morning trip to
the woodlands, and when all was ready we started
off merrily together for a forenoon of earnest work.
Most of my June afternoons were demanded at the
home lot, but three or four hours of the morning had
to be regularly devoted to the wood-cutters.
Sometimes a fine tree for house timber had to be
spared for future use; sometimes I had to handle my
heavy American axe to cut a tree close to the




158     LIFE  IN  ST. D O M I N GO.
ground, and then measure off the timber, to suit my
particular purpose.
It was always necessary to watch over these men,
if I wished to keep the fence line clear, and have the
materials piled in fit and accessible order. I have no
taste for doing the same thing twice over, but both
of my men seemed to have a genius for leaving every
cutting in the way of the next day's work, so that
without constant superintendence one-half of their
time would be lost in lifting and removing obstacles
created by their own careless management.
On that morning we were hardly inside the clearing when I saw an uneasy, displeased look cross
the usually open and sunny brow of my friend Delfino.
With a frown, he walked over and around the
heaps of wood, scanning the timber and questioning the men with a closeness that surprised me. I
was hauling, that is, I was loading and driving, and
patient Burro was hauling away, some fence-posts
of more than needful length and solidity, when
Delfino (whom I had left talking to the wood-cut



LIFE  IN  ST. Do MIN GO.            159
ters) suddenly put his hand on my shoulder and said,
mockingly:
" You are a helpless innocent, and I must take you
in charge."
" I appreciate your kindness, but how long is it
since it has pleased you to exchange the character
of pupil for that of guardian?" I asked with some
surprise.
" Only now, and only in part," he answered with
a smile. "You shall still be my master in the
realms of cultivation, but I must -be yours in the
forest, where timber is the only harvest."
" So be it; but tell me why you are so warmn about
it. There is, of course, a reason for this decided
resolution."
"I want to make a contract for building you a
snug little country cottage," said Delfino, dashing
off at his own good pleasure from the subject before
us. " I want to build for you, not a palace, but a
plain, comfortable shelter at a fair price, and I will
take my pay in satin-wood."
"Build cottage or palace as you please, Delfino.




160     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
It is all one to me this year. Consult your own taste
as to the extent of the edifice and its style of architecture. I should be sorry to cripple your genius
with base conditions. I will allow you the same
unlimited charter to pay yourself, if you can discover the means, for I give you notice that I shall
never again attempt to oppose any proposition of
yours, however ridiculous or impracticable."
"Let Burro alone for three minutes, and answer
me seriously one question," said Delfino, planting
himself before the donkey so that I could not turn
him.
I regarded him with increased surprise as he
went on:
"  Will you give up to me your miserable tent and
all the satin-wood in this clearing, if I will have a
cottage built for you equal to that of Manuel the
carpenter, on the Savanna? Yes or no?"
" Yes, with all my heart, as to the satin-wood.
But for the miserable tent —no, 1 cannot spare that
for the present, my friend."
"Enough. I accept the satin-wood, and offer my




L IFE  IN  ST. DO M IN GO.    161
humble apology to the tent. I did not apply the epithet'miserable' to that most respectable institution;
on the contrary, I esteem it excessively. I may say
I adore it-in dry weather; I intended merely to
signify that your whim to live in it through the rainy
season, is miserable enough. I hope that is satisfactory."
" Perfectly, my dear Delfino, except that I don't
in the least understand your meaning in all this outbreak about satin-wood and a cottage."
"The meaning of it all is, that these fellows have
taken advantage of your inexperience in precious
woods, to steal a fine lot for themselves. Here, for
example, is a stump of satin-wood," putting his foot
on it as he spoke. "There are two more, partly
hidden by the brush thrown over them, and I am
confident that we shall find a dozen more under those
piles of trash."
" But where can the wood be?" I asked, in bewilderment. "I am here almost every day, and do
the most part of the piling and hauling myself, and I
cannot imagine how these men found an opportunity




162     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
to cut and carry away any amount of wood worth
mentioning."
" They found time in the afternoons. They noticed
that you seldom came here except in the mornings,
and they cut and carried off, far enough to hide in
the after-part of the day, every valuable piece they
had previously spied out."
"But what can I do about it?  How can I recover it? I cannot begin my career in this country
by criminal prosecutions. You surely would not
advise me, a stranger, to adopt sudden and harsh
measures with these poor men, who, with their
families, are, after all, my neighbors?"
"Perhaps not," said Delfino. "Leave Julio and
I to manage the affair. We are both forest owners,
and have a strong interest in the suppression of
wood thieves. We understand the class, and shall
know how to bring these rascals to confession without soiling our hands with those expensive nuisances
-courts and prisons."
"But, Delfino, I really cannot consent to your
taking so much trouble on my account! I had




LIFE  IN  ST. Do MINGO.    163
rather let the affair pass in silence, and get other
wood-choppers to finish my work, than have a stir
about it.":' There, stop talking, my dear innocent, while I
set you right," put in Delfino in his abrupt, positive
way. " In the first place, it is not your business but
mine. You have sold me the wood for a new cottage.. In the second, you cannot get other woodcutters as easily as you fancy; and thirdly, there will
be no stir; for we, that is, Julio and I, will make
the rogues disgorge under promise of pardon and
secrecy. Nothing will be exacted of them for this
offence, if they go on well with their chopping and
sin no more."
I thanked Delfino heartily for his kind and judicious intervention, and promised to leave every
thing in his hands.
"Even the new cottage?" he said, archly.
" Have I not promised never again to resist you?"
"That is most wisely resolved, amigo mio," cried
out Delfino, in great glee; " for in that, more than
any thing else, I had firmly determined to have my




164    LIFE  IN  ST. Do  INGO.
own way. But now that you are in such a promising
frame of mind, we will go home to dinner."
During our noon-tide rest we talked over the cottage plan, and shaped out the course of work until we
were of nearly one mind at all points.
In this unexpected manner was I decided to begin
building, months in advance of my most sanguine
hopes. But I have not adopted Delfino's plan of a
cottage, like that of the rich carpenter on the prairie.
His house is not precisely what would suit me to see
on the site of Buena Vista, and yet it is much too expensive for me to venture upon while my homestead
is not wholly paid for, and while I am yet so deficient in dairy and working stock for my farm. All
this I had to argue with Delfino, point by point,
until we gradually came to agree.
I conceded that it was best to build something in
the way of shelter at once, and Delfino admitted that
with my " monomania," as he styled my intense
dread of going beyond my means, it was well
enough not to attempt any thing expensive. I consented to devote all the satin-wood of the clearing to




LI FE  IN  S'T. DOMINGO.    165
the new cottage, but only after the balance due Don
Julio on the homestead should be paid. I had
previously reserved three fine mahogany trees, growing near the line of the fence, for this purpose, and
these, with whatever other cabinet woods we might
meet in levelling the forest, would, I had promised
myself, be more than sufficient to wipe out the debt.
Delfino's discovery of the satin-wood had presented
speedier and more abundant means than I had ventured to expect, but still I would not encroach upon
them until an unencumbered homestead was secure.
This has been my thought by day and my dream
by night, during years of struggle in that busy, dusty,
far-off city of my loathing. The dwelling would soon
come of itself, I felt sure, whenever I had so far advanced that a fair space for free and willing labor
should be fully, firmly, unquestionably my own.
Before Delfino returned home, the cottage was
finely under way. He had made our dishonest woodcutters give up more than three thousand feet of
superior satin-wood worth on the spot fifty dollars the
thousand, which they had managed to convey to the




166     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
vicinity of the weighing wharf at Palenque Bay, and
hid under the brush and sand. More than three
thousand feet of a somewhat inferior character was
thrown by in the heaps of fencing stuff, in the hope,
probably, that I would overlook it in my ignorance
of the appearance and value of the precious woods.
Don Julio bought it all, and would gladly have
bought ten times as much for freight to Europe.
After deducting the balance due him, he sent me a
note stating that he held one hundred and eighty
dollars at my order. One hundred and eighty dollars is a slight thing to him, a trifle to be noted in
his business books and forgotten in the next hour,
but small as it is, it will build me a snug cottage.
Insignificant as it may be, I enter into it with a
feeling that within its shelter I am its master and my
own-a sentiment of joy and independence not to be
exchanged for life in a palace, if that life and that
palace are ruled at the will of another.




LIFE  IN   ST. DOMINGO.                   167
CHAPTER VIII.
JULY.
My palenca.-Active preparations.-Kindness of Delfino and
Don Julio.-Manuel, the carpenter.-Description of my new
cottage.-A sudden apparition.-Tio Juanico.-Sanchez, the
limeburner.-Juanico's history.-Engage him to work for me.
-His mysterious disappearance.-Is he faithless?-Abrupt return. -Juanico wounded.-His distress. -What I do for him.Cost of building.-The sea-breeze.-Fourth of July, how we
celebrate it.-The grand feast.-Yuca and yautilia.-My corn
crop.-Abounding wealth of vegetables.
ON first entering upon my wild homestead, I
had not dreamed of attempting to build any thing in
the shape of a better dwelling than the old cabin, under eight or ten months at least. I did not dare hope
that my best exertions could produce from this bit
of wilderness the means, even then, for erecting more
than a rude and temporary shelter. But the wholesome, faith-inspiring visit of Delfino opened a brighter
prospect.




168     L I FE  IN  ST. D  M I N GO.
On calculating cost, and weighing carefully the
means, my own labor included, I became of Delfino's
opinion, about the middle of June-as I noted in my
record of the month-that I could afford to build a
snug, cleanly, and durable "palenca," cottage, which
would answer the immediate purpose of a dwelling.
In the event of being able to build a more conmmodious house on the chosen site of Buena Vista,
this cottage would finally serve for the very necessary farm appendage of tool-house, and workshop.
The evening after Delfino came to his conclusion
about the value of the satin-wood taken from the
new clearing, we called on Don Julio and all three
of us went seriously and solemnly into the discussion
of the size, and the corresponding estimates, for the
new cottage. Before we slept it was agreed that it
could be built for one hundred dollars, except the
floors and carpenter work.
The next morning we selected and measured off
the building place on the slope, shaded by my favorite Fruit Grove; the front looking up the Orange




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.              169
Walk to the crest of Buena Vista, and the rear opening in the direction of the spring.
While I went to the " clearing" to look after my
more than suspected wood-choppers, Delfino made
another visit to Don Julio, and, as I learned afterwards by his success, asked and induced that kind
friend to send over three of his best hands, to assist
us in " house raising."
The space marked out was only fourteen by twenty-four feet-people don't expect to build immensely
on a capital of one hundred dollars —but that allows
me two modest little rooms. We measured the
spaces, and with Juan's help dug the holes and set
the upright posts; allowing duly for doorways front
and rear, and a window at each end. The doors
and windows to fill these places were to be the subject of consideration at a future day. Sufficient for
the present, and our allotted one hundred dollars,
were the roof and walls of our much-discussed, and
to me deeply interesting cottage.
The carpenter from Savana Grande was brought
over to assist in hewing and fitting the " plat"
8




170     L I F E  IN  ST. D OM I N G O.
timbers which surmount the uprights and support
the rafters. Manuel, the carpenter, is a man of
substance, and holds himself of no mean importance in the little prairie village of Savana Grande,
but Delfino hurried him about with as much impetuosity as if we were all engaged in erecting a royal
pavillion, which must, let who may suffer, be ready
for kingly occupation at a given moment.
Manuel yielded to the delusion of a life and death
urgency, when he saw gentlemen like Don Julio and
Don Delfino working with me side by side, handling
tools, moving timber, and making themselves useful
generally, in the midst of their own servants. Such
distinguished countenance, covered me and my "palenca" with dignity, and the honest carpenter allowed
himself to be driven about as he had never submitted
to be driven before. But then, my friends were men
of distinction, while his ordinary employers were
common people, who only paid by the day.
Palenca is the old Indian name for a peculiar kind
of house, made of rough lathing, split from small
branches, and closely woven between posts set in the




LIFE  IN  ST. DOrMINGO.            171
ground. The woven walls are plastered over, inside and out, with mud or mortar, and are as neat
as they are cheap. These "palencas" are covered
with a tall pyramid roof of palm thatching, or sometimes with the same woven and plastered sheeting
that composes the side-walls, and when the whole is
whitewashed in its own peculiar style, it has a very
quaint, picturesque effect.
My new cottage was to be a thatched palenca, and
as soon as the posts were set and the rafters on, Juan
went into the village on the prairie, to engage all the
thatchers and lathmen he could collect, in order to
follow up the work with the better speed. Thatch
and thatchers we soon had, and the roof was up and
finished ten days after the raising; but the lathsplitters kept disappointing me, and the sides of the palenca were filled up with tedious slowness.
It is the busy time for planting and hoeing, and
the men would not leave their own home work for
mine in the woods at the ordinary wages. They are
the less willing to do so, as in this season the laborer
is likely to be caught out in the sudden and violent




172    LIFE  IN  ST. DO M I N G O.
showers now common in the afternoons. The mornings, however, are almost invariably fine, as I have
had occasion to state in the preceding months, and
counting on this agreeable peculiarity of the climate, I
followed up my woodland work very closely in the
forenoons, and snatched the clear afternoon intervals,
when they offered, for my garden.
The day that Delfino was busy with me and my
two woodmen in selecting the uprights for the cottage, a man of singular appearance silently dropped
in on us from some by-path. No one seemed to
know or notice him, until Delfino looked up and held
out his hand with a warm smile of welcome.' Ah, my good Tio Juanico, is that you? I rejoice
to see you here," said Delfino, in his sunny, cordial
way. "I hope you are as healthy and as happy as
ever."
"' I am always well, and at your service, mi seoor,"
the man answered with manifest pleasure. " I heard
you were on a visit at Don Julio's, and I went there
to salute you. Don Julio's people told me you were
with Seflor Vecino, and I went to the tent, but found




LIFE  IN  ST. Do MINGO.    173
no one at home. Then I went to Juan's, and he directed me here."
" You have had a long walk, Tio Juanico," said
Delfino, kindly.  "  Where do you live now?"
" I work for Sanchez, the lime-burner, on the Nizao
river; but his last kiln for the season is made, and I
have no wages now."
"Then you have come in good time, Juanico;
the SeFior is looking for lathmen to get out the
stuff and help build his palenca. Can you begin
work to-day?" asked Delfino.
"Si Seflor. This moment, if you please."
"That is talking like a man, my good Tio," returned Delfino. Take your knife and pull the bark
from these house-posts. When they are done, you
may do the same for the rafters, but that will be for
to-morrow."
At the word, Tio Juanico drew the long knife which
the country people always carry at their belts, and
applied himself to work with an air of steady and
composed satisfaction, while I paused for a moment to study this new addition to my force.




174     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
His dark Indian face, with its gentle mouth and sadly
earnest eyes, was not uncomely, and his shapely head,
with its mass of jetty hair, was really noticeable in its
fine proportions, but both his back and breast had a peculiar and ungainly prominence, amounting to deformity.  Aside from  this, he was a muscular, welllimbed man, in the strength of his age, and, as I soon
saw, as ready as he was capable for hard work.
His voice was strikingly clear and musical, but it
had the same expression of patient sadness which
looked out of his eyes.
In the hurry of the hour I thought no more about
him, but when noon came, and I was starting home
with a load of posts with Burro, I called Tio Juanico
to come with us and get some dinner. At night, Delfino suggested that our new man should sleep near
him in the old cabin. There was nothing there in
the shape of bed or bedding, for Delfino occupied the
hammock, but he cut for himself a few branches, and
with an armful of corn-leaves arranged a couch to his
entire content. The poor fellow had given away his
blanket to a sick man at the lime-kiln-so Juan told




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    175
us-and literally had little more than he stood in, on
the face of the earth. He had formerly been in Delfino's employ, but his fellow-servants had treated him
so unkindly that he could not endure to stay.
When pressed by Delfino to name his persecutors, he
declined doing so, choosing rather to leave his place
than cause the dismissal of his inconsiderate tormentors.
So Juanico drifted down to the Nizao, and thence
to me at the moment when Delfino, having forced me
to build, was on the look-out for help to forward the
work. Delfino's sketch of his character, and Juan's
account of his kindness to his sick friend, prepossessed me in Juanico's favor, and I was right glad
to have him with me while Delfino prolonged
his visit.
All the next day and the next one after, Juanico
worked quietly and faithfully in preparing the house
timber. The third was the "raising day," arid he
did not spare himself from daylight to dark, but at
night he suddenly disappeared. He had asked me
at noon, if I should require him after the frame was




176     LIFE  IN  ST. D OM I N GO.
up, and I answered by engaging him for another
week for the lath splitting and weaving. He then entreated the favor of an advance of three days' wages,
besides what was already due, and I gave it to him
without hesitation, for, even without Delfino's testimony in favor of his strict honesty, I would have
trusted his candid face for a much larger sum.
In the evening of the "raising" he was missing.
Still we thought little about his absence, but when a
whole day passed, and Delfino-whom he knew was
to return home at that time —had to start without
seeing him, my confidence in Tio Juanico was slightly
abated. This was Saturday, and as I sat in the dark
of the evening, thinking of the void which the departure of Delfino's sunny spirit leaves in my solitary
dwelling-place, gazing into the obscurity at the meteor flittings of the fire-flies-a little lonely, and much
fatigued with the incessant labors of the week, Tio
Juanico startled me by noiselessly gliding along and
standing before me, as mute as a statue, actually unseen until within a distance of six feet.
"I thought you had left altogether, Juanico," I




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    177
said, coldly. " Your good friend, Don Delfino, was
surprised that, you were not here when he went
away."
"' Oh! Selior excuse me," said Juanico, humbly.
"I met with an accident. My hand is lame. I cannot be of any use to you now, but when my hand is
better, I will, with your permission, come and work
out what I owe you. I will work for you until you
are satisfied."
" All the work I wish you to do will probably be
finished before your hand is well," I answered, with
increased coldness.
"Then I will work for somebody else, Seifor,
and bring you the money, for I am not lazy, nor
dishonest. It makes the heart pain more than the
hand, to have Don Delfino and the Seflor think
badly of me."
He uttered this in a low, imploring tone that went
home to my better self.
" What is the matter with your hand, Juanico?"
I asked, in a softened tone.
"I went to see a sick friend at Rio Nizao. He
8*




178     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
was dying and wanted the priest. I went for him,
and, to be quick, I rode a wild young horse. In returning, the horse started and dashed me amongst
the trees, and hurt my arm."
Iie stopped short with a suppressed sigh of pain,
that I fancied came indeed more from the heart than
the hand.
"Let me look at your hand," I said, turning into
the tent to light the lamp. He had it in his bosom,
and he held it out to me, supported in the other. I
saw the wrist was sprained and badly swollen. I
did what I could to relieve it. I bathed and bandaged it, after rubbing the whole arm with olive
tar, the liniment of my special faith, and then
contrived a sling to protect the injured member
and leave the other at liberty.
While I was busy with this I happened to meet his
eye, and was struck with its look of subdued anguish.
It was not the expression of physical pain, it was the
deep grief of the soul, written with a painful distinctness, such as I have rarely seen inscribed on
any human countenance.




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    179
He dropped his eyes to the ground as he met my
earnest, questioning glance.
"Let us hope, Tio Juanico, that your friend is
happier where he is than he could be with us."
I uttered this common-place to start the iron pressure upon the heart of the poor mourner, and force
him to speak, perhaps to weep, that the pent-up tide
might flow out and relieve him, but he only bent his
head in silence.
"' Was he a near relation, Juanico?"
"My cousin. I never had brother or sister. Jose
was my only friend."  He uttered the words sadly
and slowly, but almost firmly, and turned to leave
the tent.
I allowed him to escape into the friendly obscurity
of the evening outside, but there I stopped him with
his adios on his lips.
"There is a hammock for you, Juanico, which Don
Delfino left on your account, in the old cabin, and if
you choose to remain with me until your hand is
cured we will see about work afterwards."
He stood a moment without speaking, and then




180     L I I E  IN  ST. D o r I N G o.
with the one word gracias-thanks-he hastily entered the cabin as if to busy himself in the dark.
Half an hour later I went there to offer him some
supper, but he begged to be excused, and bidding
him good-night I left him alone with his grief.
I am habitually an early riser, but Tio Juanico was
up before me, and had prepared the coffee and
toasted cassava, to hand me as soon as I was ready
to take it. I dressed his arm again and found him
able to slightly bend his fingers, so that I could
assure him that no bone was out of place. From
that hour he seemed to have no thought but how
best to serve my interests.
How he managed to do so much with one hand I
cannot imagine. I left him plying the splint broom
about the tent, when I went to the clearing for a load
of lathing, and when I returned, somewhat before
noon, he was busy in the garden, helping one of Captain Ramirez' men to pack a load of fruit and vegetables for the city. The thatch, the cane, and the vine
cords for tying them, had come in while I was in the
forest, and Juanico had attended to that also, while




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    181
directing and assisting the thatchers about the roof
arrangements. This work being peculiar to the
country, he had managed it much better than I could
have done, for the whole business was familiar to
him and new to me.
All the week he watched faithfully over the
thatchers, and but for him they would not have completed the work in the time agreed upon with Delfino. When not engaged with them, he would take
a turn in the field or garden to note the state of
the crop, and single out what was fit for market, and
have all ready to deliver to Captain Ramirez when
the Alice came in for cargo.
Whatever Tio Juanico was clearly and patiently
instructed how to do, was thereafter done in exact
time and method, whether about the house or
grounds.  I soon learned that I had unwittingly
secured a most faithful help in this time of need.
For without omitting a single day my careful attention to the wood-cutting, the cottage went on,
and the garden was not neglected, under his unwearied care.




182     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
The frame of my palenca had occupied me a week,
getting it out and setting it up, and the roofingin consunied another week.
Two men in one day tied on the rafters, and on
these rafters the lattice of reeds for the support of
the palm-leaf thatching, and the same men put on the
thatch in three days more. On Thursday it rained,
and they went home in the afternoon, leaving the
peak of the roof unfinished.
These men did not come back to finish it until
Saturday afternoon, when we closed accounts. They
were to do the work and find the tying vines for eight
dollars, but, looking to durability, I agreed to add
another dollar, and have the thatch put on with extra
closeness and care. The palm-leaves, as agreed for
by Delfino, came to a trifle less than nine dollars, and
the reeds to a trifle more than one dollar-ten dollars
for all the material-so the roof cost me just nineteen dollars.
The north end and a portion of the west side
were filled in with the woven lathing, without the
use of a nail, almost as soon as the roof was done,




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    183
but there the " siding-up" stopped for some days. I
was put off from day to day by the men who had undertaken this part of the palenca, but who would
work a part of one day, and then be off for the next
two, until my patience was more than exhausted.
Delfino had promised to spend the ever-glorious
Fourth of July with me, and I was anxious to receive
him in the new cottage. The men who had thatched
it were finally induced by Tio Juanico to go into the
woods and assist in getting out the lathing, and with
great exertions and some additional expense, three
sides of the cottage were closed in by the evening of
the third of July. The south front was still open,
and what to do about it, was the subject of much
serious consultation between my old friend Juan, my
new man Juanico, and myself.
My accommodating tent settled the whole difficulty
at last. I slept in it the night of the third, but I was
up with the dawn, and by eight in the morning, we
had removed the tent and its belongings to the new
cottage.  With very little arrangement it made a
partition between the rooms, and a convenient front




184     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
curtain to screen the privacy of my future bedchamber.
On the Fourth, I was truly and happily in a house
of my own, and the sense of space and comfort it
offered was a positive luxury, after my months of
cramped quarters in my old lodging. Yet, truth to
say, I thought very little about these inconveniences
while I was absorbed in the greater necessity of getting my ground and crops in safe progress.
The larger portion of my palenca is still open to
the south, but that side is delightfully overarched by
the thick branches of my fruit-trees. The welcome
sea-breeze plays. freely through their majestic trunks,
but their green, never-fading foliage protects the
room from the sun, and even the rain, almost like a
roof.
It has the free and open freshness of an arbor, with
almost the security of a close and finished room. I
am adding a kind of kitchen at the end, which it is
intended to veil with a screen of flowering vines.
Already I am beginning to find a little time and place
for the ornamental.




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    185
On the Fourth, Julio and Delfino came together,
somewhat later in the day than I had expected,
but they were after all in good season and warmly
welcomed.
I was proud to receive them in my airy, rustic
bower, and not ashamed of the simple dinner Anita
set before them. There is always abundance of fine
fish in Palenque Bay, and the dish of the occasion
was a real American chowder, provided for them according to an old promise, at their own special request. I had hoarded up the last of my Boston
crackers and other little matters from home for my
first "Independence Day" in this new land of promise, and the feast was all the better relished for being
laid out in the cool, delicious shade of my openfronted but tree-embowered palenca.
Other dishes on our genial, gipsy board, were to
me as acceptable novelties as my friends declared the
Yankee chowder to be to them. Tio Juanico, whose
hand and arm were now re-established in sound activity, had shot and dressed the pigeons, gathered the
fruits and vegetables, and did many other things, too




186     L I FE  IN  ST. DO M I N G 0.
numerous to mention, towards helping forward the
day's great business, in which of course he, and the
whole of Juan's family felt an immense personal interest.
Of course, there was an unlimited supply of whatever the homestead produced; but when the vegetables came on, there was among them an unexpected
home dish of the whitest and mealiest of potatoes.
I knew we had sweet potatoes and yuca which I had
thought the next best thing to Irish potatoes, but
here was the potato  itself.  I could not divine
whence it came, for in making the chowder, I had
been forced to substitute yuca for that indispensable
vegetable, and I questioned Juanico about it the moment we left the table. For even Julio and Delfino
did not recognize the stranger.
Tio explained by leading me to the corner of the
yuca plat, and showing me a cluster of immense
leaves, many of them more than a foot in diameter,
He called this yautilia. I had found, growing among
the weeds when I cleared up the old garden space, a
few of these peculiar heart-shaped leaves, and asked




LIFE  IN  ST. DO M[INGO.    187
Juan what they were? He replied, with indifference,
that " the roots were good enough to eat, when there
were no plantains, no yuca, and no yams." On this
very dubious recommendation, I concluded to give
the plants a trial, and transplanted them in a double
row where the hoe and weeder could attend to them
while busy with the corn rows.
Cultivation had so much improved this neglected
Indian yautilia that my friends did not recognize it,
in the delicate and savory mash which was placed
before them with the roasted fowls. For me I consider it a most valuable discovery.
I am persuaded that this root is capable of great
improvement, and that it will be an exceedingly
profitable crop when the ground is naturally favorable, and where thorough ploughing gives it fair
play.
My first crop of corn is sold, and I have planted
the ground with yuca and yautilia, in equal divisions. The bean ground, which is too full of
stumps for ploughing, I am planting with sweet potatoes, and in December I shall probably be able to say




188     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
which of the three is the most desirable as a money
maker.
July is an excellent month for planting all of these,
and the whole of the space left free by taking away
the first crops of corn and beans is now, at the close
of the month, green with thrifty successors of the
root family.




LIE'~  IN   ST. DOMINGO.                 189
CHAPTER IX.
AUGUST.
A drawback not altogether surprising.-A warning to new-comers.
-How I paid for my experience.-Plantain walk. —Different
varieties of bananas.-My platanal.-Industry of Juanico.-His
brilliant strategy. —Felix Tisada.-Exhibit my improvements.Amazement of the Dominican.-A proposal.-I take advantage of it.-Overwork myself.-Awake feverish and in pain.Anita's advice.-Simple remedies.-Juanico and Felix wish to
call a physician.-Each knows a worthy doctor.-They disagree.-Decide to employ neither.-My rapid recovery.-Valuable hints.
JUNE and July were exciting months. They were
perhaps overcrowded with work. In fact I now feel
that I swerved too often and too widely from the
rule and moderation which I had strictly carried into
all my labors in the earlier months of my residence
here.
What with gathering in my first crop from the
Home Field, and preparing the ground and planting
the second crop, what with clearing the New Field,




190    LIFE  IN  ST. D o MINGO.
and building my dear and pleasant palenca cottage,
I have lived and acted under the constant pressure
of an unwise eagerness to do more than my means
and strength warranted.
Yet after paying the penalty and counting the
cost, there still remains a cheerful balance of satisfaction on my mind. When I step out in the bright
and fragrant hour of sunrise, and see the blooming
results of one poor man's work, in the teeming fields
that speak of "something attempted, something
done," I rejoice in my labors.
As I look abroad and sum up the bounteous freedom of a country life, I marvel at the patience with
which I toiled in the treadmill routine of a city existence for so many weary years, always keenly anxious
about the future, and never enjoying the calm certainty
that even the doubtful tenure, by which I worked for
daily bread, would hold good to the year's end.
Here at least, every week of well-applied labor
gives fair promise of permanent reward. Every
privation of the passing hour carries with it the balm
of an abundant future recompense.




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    191
August is to a new beginner, in some respects, a
more exacting month than July; for while it is
particularly and prominently the time to set out his
plantain walk, as well as to close the planting of his
sweet potatoes, yuca and yautilia, there are three
chances to one that his plan of labor may be broken
in upon by a two or three hours' rain nearly every
afternoon.
A new comer must avoid these drenching showers
as he would an inevitable sentence to a week of
chills and fever. One is almost sule to follow the
other, if an unacclimated man is caught in a heavy
rain while warm with work, unless he will take the
trouble to seek immediate shelter, and put on dry
clothes. For my own part, I was too careless on
this point, and had to pay the price of my negligence.
I have been rashly impatient to finish planting
the New Field this month, besides setting out a
plantain walk around the south sweep of the winter
garden, and more than once, while occupied by the
double press of clearing the New Field and replant



192    L I E  IN  ST. DOMIN GO.
ing the Home Lot, I had been caught in a sudden
July shower without much regarding it. I was too
intensely anxious to clear the way for my projects
for August.
In addition to my previous plantings in May, June,
and July, I have collected from my neighbors, and
set out this month, more than a hundred plantains
and banana roots-for I could not be content with
less than the assurance of a full and never-failing supply of these precious tropical fruits-and it was a
week's earnest labor for Juanico and myself to get
them well in the ground.
Once fairly planted, in a proper manner, a plantain
walk of two hundred roots becomes, with a very
trifling amount of care, a standing fruit and vegetable supply for a large family.
The real plantain, boiled or roasted, serves in the
place of bread in most of the country families. On
many plantations the hands only have corn or
cassava bread in the morning, and plantains at noon
and night, and they generally prefer them to any
other bread or vegetable. I cannot, therefore, ex



LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    193
pect to secure native laborers unless I provide a sure
abundance of plantains in advance. There are several varieties of the plantain and banana, but the
plantain proper being always eaten cooked, may be
counted as a vegetable, while the luscious, melting
banana ranks as a fruit. Both have the merit of
being in season all the year. One variety, the manzana or " apple banana," a larger and hardier fruit
than the delicate "fig banana," usually carried to the
North, owes its name to the close resemblance in
taste to a fine flavored apple when stewed or baked.
When made into pies or dumplings, it is not easy to
distinguish one from the other.
A fine plantain walk soon became a cherished
feature in my homestead programme, and every step
towards it was consequently made with careful forethought. A strip of rich, low land curved along the
foot of the spring slope, beyond the moist ground
occupied by my winter garden. This rich belt of
low-lying interval placed about midway between the
house site and the old cabin, and in full view of both,
offers the most suitable soil and the most convenient
9




194     LIFE  IN  ST. D oMINGO.
position for a platacnal to be found on the homestead, and from the first I have rejoiced over it as a
precious advantage.
During May I began to prepare the ground fitly,
to set out the roots as fast as I could manage to
obtain them. I began by laying off the platanal fot
two hundred roots, though I had no idea when,
where, or how I should get so many, for there is not
one of my neighbors that has half the number-Don
Julio excepted-and very few of them have any to
spare on any terms. Nevertheless, with a devout
trust in Providence, and some confidence in my own
exertions to bring together the number and the
varieties, which I consider necessary for a full and
constant supply of the fruit for every week of the
round year, I measured off my plantain walk, one
hundred and fifty feet long by fifty feet wide. This
is a fair allowance of space for eight rows of plants,
twenty-five in a row and six feet apart.
While waiting for the plantain roots to come and
take possession of their places, I put in a crop of the
common quick-growing field bean of the country, but




LIFE  IN  ST. DO  MINGO.    195
set stakes to mark where the plantains and bananas
were to go, as fast as I should be able to procure
them.
Down the centre of the Plantain Walk runs a
broad aisle, nine feet in width, for the free passage of
the donkey cart, and on each side of this central alley
there is now a double row of plantains proper, one
hundred in all, and to my eyes they make a goodly
and refreshing show. Some of those planted in May
are now gayly waving their immense leaves of vivid
green, two yards long and a yard wide, eight feet
above the soil. In three months more, I may hope to
walk through a charming arcade of green banners
the whole length of my plantain walk, but it will be
well nigh a year before it can be said to be really in
bearing.
After a good young platanal begins to yield fruit,
the supply never flags in this luxuriant region.
While one fruit-stalk is ripening its enormous cluster, others spring beside it to take its place at an
early day; and so they keep up a perpetual succession of young shoots, of older stems just unfolding




196     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
their great flower-cones of deep purple, and of eight
or ten months old bearers, bending with long clusters
of green and ripening fruit. Each original root becomes the centre of a cluster of plants in these different stages of ripeness, holding out through all
seasons, from January to January, and never failing
in a lifetime.
It required some patience and a trifle, perhaps
somewhat more than a trifle, of persistent assurance
to collect a sufficient stock of plantains to complete
my coveted walk, but in one way and another the
task was entirely accomplished by the middle of August.
The plantains proper were obtained with little difficulty, they being more abundant in the little gardens about Palenque and the Savana Grande, than
bananas. When any of my neighbors came to buy,
or as more frequently happened, to beg, a mess of
nice vegetables, which they had been too idle or too
careless to raise for themselves, I gave them more
than they expected, but always with a Yankee hint
that a few plantain roots would be an acceptable re



LIFE  IN  ST. Do MINGO.            197
turn for my ocra, chalots, tomatoes or limas, and these
kindly people rarely came a second time without
bringing the desired equivalent in the shape of a pair
of plantain roots. In this way, and with the large
contribution of some thirty roots from Don Julio's
platanal, I had more than half of the double row of
plantains each side of the central alley in the ground
and already sending their broad, banner-like leaves a
couple of feet above it, by the end of June. Outside
the plantains proper, places were marked for a row
of the manzana or " apple" banana, and again outside
of these runs a finishing row on either hand of the
melting " fig," which is of a lower growth and richer
foliage than the others. The plantain has the inside
place, because it runs up taller and does not rejoice
in the full, untempered blaze of the sun so much as
the sugary fig banana.
During all June, my faithful, unselfish man Friday,
my poor, affectionate Juanico, made several forays
into more distant settlements to obtain the complement of apple and fig bananas necessary to keep step
with the plantains in our new Walk. He specially




198     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
celebrated St. John's day by walking over to the town
of Bani, fourteen miles, and there managed to inveigle
an old friend of his into bringing over to me a donkey
load of the much desired banana roots.
I was delighted to receive Juanico's friend Felix
and his donkey load of fine sipas, though somewhat
astonished at this prompt and brilliant success. I
was not long, however, in discovering that Juanico
had achieved this through his florid descriptions of
our wonderful deeds in the farming line. In fact, he
had even offered to teach his credulous friend the
Yankee art and mystery of weeding corn, yuca, and
other field crops with a donkey cultivator.
After Felix had assisted us to set out the banana
roots, Juanico put Burro to the cultivator, and run
through a few rows of corn of the last planting. The
invigorating showers, and glowing sun of August had
started a light crop of weeds, notwithstanding the
thorough cleaning it had received in July, but the
ground was mellow and as Burro walked along, this
green growth of intruders vanished with magical celerity.




LIFE  IN  ST. D OIINGO.    199
Felix was charmed with the performance of Burro
and the weeding plough; so much so, that he begged
permission to harness his own donkey, and work with
him at cleaning all the corn in my home lot.
I graciously consented, and in one forenoon ne did
well and fully, the work usually assigned for a week's
labor to first class native hands, but which none of
them often perform.
This feat was a great delight to Felix, and the
honest Bani farmer did not disguise the triumphant
satisfaction which he promised himself in relating to
his friends at home, that he had learned to do more
work with one donkey and a little machine which he
could carry about on his shoulder, than twelve of the
best men in Bani could perform in the same time.
Following up this opening advantage, Juanico
wrought up his friend's enthusiasm to a fever pitch
by showing him the deep ploughing, and it culminated to overflowing at the sight of the sweeping
rapidity of scythe work, when he cut the fodder for
the donkey's night feed. Later in the day, Juanico
walked with him through the planted avenues, which




200     LIFE  IN  ST. D O  I N G O.
are now beautifully carpeted with thick grass, and
give pleasant access to every part of the homestead,
and explained why such pains had been taken to
plant every thing in regular lines.
The Dominican was charmed with all he saw, and
comprehended every thing very well, until Juanico
spoke of the grafting process. HIe was naturally
keen, and he understood at once that ploughs and
cultivators must have a clear range, and that fruittrees might perhaps pay for the trouble of trimming
and weeding, but the absolute grafting of one variety
of fruit on other stocks, seemed to him most extraordinary and a very doubtful experiment. " If such
precious results were so easily obtained, why," he
asked, " does not all the world have plenty of good
fruit?"  Common sense echoes, "Why, indeed?"
Yet it is not in Santo Domingo alone that these things
are treated as if they were not.
To convince him, we led the way to my thriving
line of grafted oranges, and pointed to the still scarred and bandaged trees, which he could see, by the
superior delicacy of the leaves, were really sweet




LIFE  IN  ST. Do MINGO.    201
orange scions, grafted on the hardy stocks of the
sour native fruit. After much examination and an endless circle of questions, always beginning and ending
with-" If this is really possible, why cannot I, Felix
Tisada, also learn to graft fruit-trees?" he arrived
at a firm conclusion that he had a genius for the
American system of cultivation, and proposed to become my disciple, something after the fashion of my
dear and noble friend Delfino. I accepted the offer
to a certain degree, but I could not but feel the vast
difference between him and Felix Tisada. One is an
instructed gentleman, with a soul as bright as the
sun and as open as the day, with a spirit that lighted
up the hardest toil; while the other is simply an unlettered laborer of Bani, used to work, and willing to
do it, but who can bring no luxury of companionship
to enliven labor or rest.
Yet the proposition of Felix was not one to be
lightly rejected by a man in my circumstances. He
wanted to learn the use of the heavy ox-plough, and
also to acquire the art of grafting, and said he was
ready to accommodate himself to any terms I chose
9*




202     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
to name that would secure these objects. Juanico
delivered me the message after the two had talked
the matter well over between themselves, and he
manifested so much interest in it, that I accepted the
bargain almost exactly as he stated it. Felix was to
come over about the middle of August, with his own
yoke of oxen, and plough up all the land I might have
ready for the purpose, and assist me in planting the
field with corn and potatoes. I agreed, on my part,
that Juanico and the light plough should be turned
into his cotton field for as many days in September
as he should work in my field in August-that is, in
planting it, for the ploughing work counted for
nothing, as it was done in the way of instruction.
Felix was eager to buy or borrow the heavy oxplough for a few weeks, to break up the ground for a
fall planting of corn, generally the most profitable
corn crop of the year, but I could not oblige him in
that point.
The plough was already sold, and at a liberal price,
to Don Julio, and I had only the right to use it for
my own work during the current year. As yet, there




LIFE  IN  ST. Do MINGO.    20O
is no other ox-plough in this region, though I have
ordered out three large ploughs, of the very best
construction, for myself and friends, but we cannot
expect to receive them before November, and by that
time the dry season will be too close upon us for any
more ploughing and planting this winter. As for the
grafting lessons, I was dubious about their successful
outcome at that season; but to teach him the form
of operation, I willingly devoted an hour in the afternoon in setting a dozen slips from a large, sweetfruited guava, on a handsome tree, very prettily situated near the cottage, but which bears a small, sour
fruit. If any of them should take, it would be a most
encouracing precedent; if not, the loss was nothing
to alarm me.
This grafting dates back to the last week in June,
when Felix came with his first load of banana-roots;
and in the press of our July planting and building,
the guava grafts were entirely neglected by me, although Juanico, as I afterwards learned, had kept an
eye of attentive curiosity on the results. He had exacted from Felix the promise to bring another load




204     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
of bananas when he returned to us to practise with
the ox-plough, and my honest Juanico felt himself, as
it were, pledged to produce the guava graftings in a
state of healthy growth. I had given no such assurance, for I much doubted the possibility of scions
taking in the full tide of sap, and fruit-bearing; but
nothing seems impossible in this generous climate.
Seven-more than half of the scions-appear to have
" set."  At any rate they are green with new leaves,
to the unbounded admiration of Felix, and not a
little, I must confess it, to my own astonishment.
I had but very moderate confidence in the punctuality of Felix, and was occupied with my plantain
walk, hoeing up the weedy grass, and heaping it in
little hills between but not too close upon the plants,
thinking over the feasibility of making an excursion
to Bani in search of roots enough to fill out my rows,
for I had exhausted the spare hijos —young sproutsof my neighbors, when my reflections were arrested
by the clamorous driving of oxen on our new road.
They came near, stopped at the gate, passed through
it. Could it, perchance, be Felix, after all? IHas he




L IE  IN  ST. Do MINGO.    205
really committed the rare and most un-Dominican act
of keeping his engagement to the day and letter? I
stepped forward to assure myself of the truth, and,
sure enough, I met him tearing down the slope,
mounted on one ox and leading another by a long
rope attached to the nostril.
"' Aqui estamos Sehor."  "Here we are, I and the
oxen, and the bananas," shouted Felix, on catching
sight of me-" Here we are, at your orders. Your
friends and servants-all three of us," he added,
sliding down from his extraordinary perch on, or
among, a huge pile of roots, and affectionately patting
the patient animal as he spoke.
An American would have scouted the idea of
piling such a quantity of stuff on the backs of a pair
of oxen, and then riding and driving them fourteen
miles at a quick step, that is quick for horned steeds,
but nothing of the kind daunts a genuine child of
this island.
While I was uttering a few words of welcome,
Felix unloosed divers cords, and down dropped the
capacious folds of native lmatting, and with themu




206     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
rolled out a welcome supply of bananas, sufficient to
complete my plantain walk, and have a few roots of
"figs" for Anita, who had earnestly bespoke the first
sprouts I could spare, for her cottage door. In the
afternoon we had several passing showers, but I was
in such haste to plant my sepas that in spite of the
wet I worked on, and Juanico and Felix assisted
until the last one was set, and my Plantain Walk
completely filled out. I went to sleep that night
with the comforting conviction that my homestead
now contains an ample and established orchard of
the most necessary and valuable of tropical fruits.
In the morning I felt heavy and feverish for the
first time since my arrival in Santo Domingo. I had
no taste for my breakfast or my work, and I ached
to return to my cot for another hour's rest, but Felix
and his oxen were waiting on me, and I forced myself to the task of seeing them well started with the
plough. Juanico, who had already learned something
of this kind of work, entreated me to return home,
and leave him and Felix to go on with the ploughing; but the effort and excitement of teaching such a




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.              207
willing and anxious pupil as Felix, kept me up an
hour or two longer. At last a dizzy headache and a
succession of slight chills warned me that I could no
longer resist the approaching fever.
Long before my regular hour of eleven, I was
obliged to resign the charge of the plough in favor of
Juanico, and seek the shelter of the palenca. I met
Anita at the spring, getting water, and asked her to
give me a drink. She looked up in surprise, and said
in tones of concern, that I had "the strangers'
fever." " Why do you think so, Anita?" I feebly inquired. She replied that she saw it in my heavy eyes
and "yellow paleness." There was a disagreeable ring
in the words "strangers' fever and "yellow  paleness," to ears that, from childhood up, have been
filled with dreadful stories of the havoc of tropical
fevers. Many people at the North fancy that half
the families that emigrate to the tropics are certain
to die off directly with yellow fever, or black vomit,
or some other terrible malady; and, notwithstanding
that I personally knew scores of emigrants who had
passed the ordeal of a change of climate without a




08S     LIFE  IN  ST. Do  INGo.
day's serious illness, these old ideas weighed heavily
on me.
A depressing return of my youthful horror of
yellow fever swept across me, as I laid my throbbing
head on the pillow, yet I thought of medicine with a
loathing distrust. The nearest doctor was four
miles off, somewhere on the River Nizao, and I was
not inclined to send for him, any way. I have no
passion for swallowing apothecaries' shops, either in
hap-hazard experiments or according to learned
rules. So I told Anita she must cure me by good
nursing, and asked her to make me a cooling drink of
ripe limes. She, however, insisted on making me,
first of all, a warm " tisana" of green limes, to drive
out the chills.
This is the simple, and generally successful,
remedy of the country. These people never think of
calling a physician for a common fever. Half a dozen
green limes, not fully grown, are cut up in a pitcher
of boiling water, which is well covered until it is so
far cooled that the patient can drink it without inconvenience. It is sweetened to one's taste, and I




LIFE  IN   ST. DOMINGO.    209
found it extremely acceptable, even hot, at least
while the creeping chills had possession of my aching
frame. As they passed off and a scorching fever
took their place, the cooled tisana was, if possible,
still more agreeable to my parched tongue, and I
drank of it without stint.
Felix and Juanico came in to see me at noon, and
both of them expressed a great desire to have a doctor called. The remedios of the country were well
enough for the poor natives, they said, but not for
me, a stranger accustomed to precious medicines, to
medicines worth their weight in gold. For me,
mere tisanas were declared to be altogether too
simple, and, of course, were out of question. They
considered that nothing short of a regular doctor
had a right to cure me. On a doctor, therefore,
they were fully agreed, but on the doctor to be intrusted with my case, there arose a formidable difference of opinion. Juanico had unlimited faith in a
certain somebody, whom he declared to be an " angel
of science"-the Dominicans are rich in splendid
phrases-but Felix said this medical wonder was




210     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
terribly anlucky with his patients, and wanted to
start off, to I know not what distant region, for
another physician who was a " well of experience."
Juanico stoutly objected to this "Well of Experience" as much more unlucky with his patients than
his own " Angel of Science."
Between them I determined not to try either, and
I ended the discussion by telling them both that I
would trust to tisanas and cold water for that day
and the next, and after that we would think about
a doctor, if by that time the fever did not abate.
That night was indeed a night of distress. Racking pains in my head, blck, and limbs, banished sleep,
and I tossed in restless anguish through the long,
long night, hopeless of rest and praying for daylight.
Anita went home at dark, leaving me a pitcher of
fresh lemonade within reach, and charging Juanico
to keep bathing my head with cool water. It was
not necessary to charge Juanico to take good
care of me, for he was not willing to leave me for a
moment. I begged him to go to his own cot in the
old cabin, where Felix had slung his hammock, and




LIFE  IN   ST. DOMINGO.    211
get his usual sleep, in order to assist at the plough in
the morning, but he plead so earnestly for the privilege of bringing in his blanket and lying down at the
foot of my bed, that it was easier to submit to his
wishes than to resist his affectionate importunity.
In the gray of the morning I fell asleep for an
hour, and when I opened my eyes I saw Juanico
staggering up the path under a back-load of cocoanuts. He had slipped away before daylight and
walked over to Don Julio's "for advice and water
cocoa-nuts to cure my fever." He came back with
both. Don Julio was not at home, but his experienced Mayoral sent me his "advice" to persevere
with tisanas of lime and sour orange, while the wcarm
chills were upon me as well as during the copious
perspirations, which he said I must expect, for three
days at least, close upon the fever that would follow
the chills. In the quiet intervals I was to be freely
indulged in the cool, transparent water of green
cocoa-nuts. If I felt any desire to eat in these intervals, which it happened I did. not, then I might be
allowed the water of a ripe cocoa-nut, as a nourish



212     LIFE  IN   ST. DOMINGO.
ment. This was all the medical advice I received,
and these agreeable beverages were literally and
strictly all the medicine I have taken for my acclimating fever. The yellow fever is unknown in this
section of the Island of Santo Domingo and the
"strangers' fever" is, to my mind, simply a milder
type of the too common " chills and fever" of the
Western States of the Union.
Judging from my own experience, and from the
statements of my friends, I should say that the acclimating "ague and fever" of the Upper Mississippi,
takes a much longer hold and is in every way more
malignant in character than the Dominican calentura.
That seldom runs more than nine days, and frequently
not more than three, if the patient turns at once
to a cooling tisana, and will abstain from gross food
during the intervals between the fever chills. The
first day or two of dizzy headache, and pains in the
back and limbs-the premonitory symptoms-are so
much alike in almost every case, that a new settler
can understand at once the nature of the attack, and
can treat it for himself with confidence.




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    213
I had three very sick days, but after they had
passed I walked out every morning to see how Felix
and Juanico were succeeding with the plough.
Taking an hour under the nearest shade-tree, I would
creep back to my diet broths, and rest on my cot
until the afternoon. I lost but three consecutive
days in which I was confined to the cottage; after
them, on alternate days, I had three afternoons of
slight chills, with decreasing fever on each occasion,
but with some headaches and a general sense of debility throughout most of the day. Between these
sick days, there regularly intervened days of comparative health, as in the chills and fever of the West,
and in those days I went out for a longer stay in the
field, and inhaled, with unspeakable zest, the cool,
invigorating freshness of the morning.
I felt able and anxious to lend a hand to the farming work in those mornings, but I refrained, as my
experienced  friend  Don  Julio, who came over
every day to see me, after he returned from the
city, impressed upon me the prudence of carefully nursing back my lost strength, instead of ex



214    LIFE  IN  ST. DO  IN GO.
hausting the little stock on hand by premature exertions.
In nine days I was very nearly myself again; but,
in the mean time, August had almost slipped away,
and much of my August planting will run into
September. Felix staid with me a fortnight, and he
and Juanico have done far better than I could have
hoped from such unpractised hands. The corn they
planted already stands out in green, well defined
rows, with plenty of squashes and calabasitas springing up between them. The potatoes look thrifty and
promising for the December and January market.
My plantain walk has started beautifully, and the
homestead has not suffered during my illness, every
thing considered. The bounties and blessings of
August have been manifold, and even its sick-bed
lessons are precious in their teachings.




LIFE   IN   ST. DOMINGO.                   O )
CHAPTER X.
SEPTEMBER.
Famous yield of sweet potatoes.-Contract with Captain Ramirez.
-The Captain becomes alarmed.-His fears quieted.-Anita's
transactions with the natives. —Cocoa-nut grove.-Its importance.-Am in great perplexity.-Juanico plays the diplomat.Felix comes to my relief.-An amusing scene.-A friendly contest.-Sale of the " cultivator."-What Felix undertakes.-How
Felix is swindled.-My despair.-A fresh comer in the scene.Arrival of Rosa Dalmeyda. —IIer mission.-How we arrange
matters.-Success at last.
THREE days of acclimating fever, and six more of
forced idleness for the restoration of my strength,
broke somewhat into my plans and labors for August, but this bright and bountiful September has set
things square again.
The week of slow recovery was favorable to a
thoughtful review of what had been done, and what
left undone, in the past seven months of active labor,




216     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
and this led to one or two material changes in the
arrangements for the future months of the year.
In the Home Field, containing rather more than
eight acres within the new fence, I have now in full
bearing nearly every tropical fruit, and all the vegetables known in northern markets, with the exception of peas and Irish potatoes; besides many kinds
that are very scarce, if not unknown, in Europe and
the United States.
By selecting a piece of wet ground below the
spring, and planting it from seedling beds made in
January, and watered during February and a part
of March, I had secured such a large and varied supply of vegetables for the dry season, that the sale of
my surplus abundance-strictly the produce of my
own labor-has been more than sufficient to pay the
hire of three men in clearing and fencing the new
field of twenty acres. The satin-wood, campeche, and
mahogany cut from this new field have completely
paid for my homestead, besides covering the expense
of closing in and roofing over my cottage.
My half an acre, more or less, of moist, fertile soil;




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    217
my Winter Garden, as I love to call it, because it
is my reliance for food and profit in the dry season
between the first of January and the middle of
March; has cost me about as much hard work to get
it well under way as the other four and a half or five
acres planted with corn, beans, yuca, and sweet potatoes. But then it has returned me profits in proportion. Indeed, the sum total of results has been,a delightful astonishment to me, and would be incredible to a farmer accustomed to the dead loss of
the frosty season in cold climates.
The yield of sweet potatoes was so abundant, in
consequence of ploughing the ground previous to
planting instead of scratching it over with the hoe,
and of my regularly cleaning them twice with the
donkey cultivator instead of once half-scraping away
the weeds here and there, that the whole neighborhood has crowded upon me in mass to wonder at it.
It is not only the most plentiful crop, and of the largest potatoes ever seen, but it is a month earlier than
any of theirs, and comes into market in season to
command the highest prices.
10




218    LIFE  IN  ST. DO MINGO.
Next year, if I live, I shall try to be yet another
month earlier, with a still better crop. The clean
and mellow soil invited the sun and rain to feed the
growing bulbs generously with warmth and moisture, and, like well-fed children, they have proved
their good keeping by their round and healthy
plumpness.
Half of the neighborhood flocked to see the' American method" of digging potatoes; and when
the number of curious visitors began to be troublesome, I set them, one and all, picking from the
furrows as I laid the potatoes open with the mule
plough. The incurable idlers speedily vanished, but
those who remained, with a wish to be useful, I took
care to pay, by giving them a portion of what they
gathered. Some of them came back the second, and
even the third day, and at the close of the ingathering many carried home more than they are likely to
get from their own ill-kept gardens.
This September crop leaves the ground free for a
replanting, either with potatoes for the latter part of
winter and early spring market, or with corn and




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMIN GO.    219
calabasitas for sale in all December. One or the
other is what a Dominican farmer would do, and it
had been my' intention to follow the native custom,
but on reflection I concluded to plant it with yautilia, the nearest thing possible to a white and mealy
Irish potato. I must wait longer for the returns, as
this excellent root does not mature in less than seven
months; but when it is ripe and ready it yields surprisingly, and will always command one dollar a
bushel.
By the way, I must not forget to note that Captain
Ramirez contracted with me to take, at the Palenque
Landing, all the sweet potatoes that I could deliver
to him before the 20th of September, at one dollar
the bushel.
To meet this engagement, I went into the field on
Monday, the 8th of September, with a lot of lads
whom I hired to pick up as I ploughed out the potatoes, and Juanico followed with his donkey cart, to
take them down to the landing, and put them on
board the boat bound for Santo Domingo city, in
the evening. At four in the afternoon the little




220     LIFE  IN  ST. D o MINGO.
Alice had received all she had room for, in addition
to her other cargo; but Capt. Ramirez contrived a
tent, out of a couple of old sails, to shelter the balance, and have it ready to ship on his return trip.
It rained late in the day, and again in the afternoons of the two succeeding days, but we had bright,
clear forenoons, and we made the most of them.
When the Alice returned on Thursday, and brought
up close to the tent, her good captain was startled
to find his extemporized storehouse filled to overflowing with potatoes.
"Where did all these come from?" he asked, almost in dismay. "I never saw such a quantity of
potatoes in one heap since I have lived on this
island."
There appeared to be more than there really were,
and Juanico, who had just brought in another load,
assured him there were not quite one hundred bushels in the pile, all told.  Ramirez  thought there
must be much more, and was really uneasy about
the possibility of selling such a quantity all in one
week. For in such a petty peddling way is the city




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMIN G 0.    221
of Santo Domingo, a town of about 12,000 inhabitants, supplied with its every-day demands in this
line, that an experienced purveyor like Ramirez was
seriously afraid of overstocking the market by offering one hundred bushels of potatoes at once! IIe
told me so quite seriously, when he ran up for half
an hour in the evening, to settle our last month's
garden account and talk over his fears.
I laughed him out of them directly, but to set his
mind fully at rest, I proposed to relieve him of his
contract for the remainder of my potato crop, if the
portion of it already at the landing should not sell to
advantage. He had sold forty bushels, the first delivery from his boat, almost as soon as he made fast
to the river bank at Santo Domingo city, and I
had no doubt that the fine size  and quality of
that instalment would create a demand for the rest.
So it turned out. It was rather early in the season for abundant supplies, and when the Alice again
rounded into the lovely bay, Saturday night, Captain
Ramirez rushed up to the cottage, after ten o'clock,
to beg of me to have another hundred bushels ready




222     LIFE  IN  ST. DO RINGO.
for him early in the week, as he had engaged that
amount among the Dominican retailers, provided
they were immediately forthcoming, while prices
were lively.
I was prepared for this, and the additional quantity
was punctually delivered in season for shipment during
the week, for I was quite as anxious to clear the field
for my yautilia planting, not to mention the interesting feature of dollars, as Ramirez was to catch
the high tide of the market.
Before the twentieth, every potato not reserved
for my own use was disposed of, and the cash
as good as in hand.
My first yuca crop in the Home Field will be
the next in order, and it will probably net me
about as much as the corn and potatoes have
already done. The beans, green and ripe, have
defrayed almost entirely the table expenses of
my frugal housekeeping. Anita and her children
have traded quite on their own responsibility, for me
and for themselves, with the whole circle of their
acquaintance, for eggs, chickens, cassava bread,




LIFE  IN  ST. DoM I N G O.    223
and fresh fish; and I have never heard of any other
current coin in their transactions than these beans,
except perhaps a few tomatoes, or a handful of
bird-pepper thrown in to make change.
Luxuries I have not aspired to; but the daily
wants, and even the simple comforts, of a plain
country life have never been wanting, no, not for
a single day, though oftentimes they have come,
I scarcely know how, like the needful showers or
the silent refreshing dew, from  the overflowing
kindness of my Heavenly Father.
Having now the means in hand to employ help,
I directed Juanico to find a couple of good men
to assist him in preparing the ground and planting
the yautilia, for there was hardly time to finish the
work belonging to this month. Besides this, I
wanted every hour I could possibly command for
a new enterprise of my own; an enterprise I now
consider of no slight importance, though it had
hitherto escaped my attention.
In common with the majority of Dominicans,
as well as strangers, I had never duly weighed the




224     LIFE  IN   ST. DOMIN GO.
importance, I may say the indispensable necessity
to a farmer, of a cocoa-nzut grove.
But its value was brought home to me in the
acclimating fever of August. Then, when my aching frame was stretched on a sick-bed, and my
whole system  was parched with fever, the cool
and wholesome water of the cocoa-nut was like
purest nectar to my burning palate. The milk,
expressed through the grated meat of the ripe nut,
is a delicate substitute for both milk and erggs in
coffee, custards, and many other little comforts of
the country. The fresh oil, if really fresh, and made
with care and neatness, is held by competent cooks
as fully equal to butter and olive oil in dressing salads
and vegetables. When it is too old for the table
or for medicine, it is excellent fuel for lamps. As
a medicine, it has all the merits of castor-oil with
none of its bad after consequences, besides being
free from its disgusting nauseousness. In addition
to all these good qualities, the limpid and almost
tasteless oil of cocoa-nuts is of itself an excellent
liniment for bruised or rheumatic limbs. I am told




LIFE  IN  ST. Do MINGo.    225
that the Indians in Central America use it constantly, internally and externally, as a panacea for all
affections of the lungs and chest, and I have myself
seen enough of its healing effects to hold it in most
sincere respect. Yet with all this, while I had
labored to gather almost every other useful fruit
within the compass of my small homestead, I had
by some strange oversight made no calculation
whatever about planting a cocoa-nut grove.
I should have attended to this in July, August, or
September, for in those rainy months, as I now
learn, the young roots strike well into the soil, and
get such a deep hold, that in the drier after months
and years they defy the drought and continue to
shoot up vigorously, with very slight regard to wet
or dry seasons. To lose September, was to run the
risk of losing half a year's growth of the sprouted
cocoa-nuts, in case October happens to be a dry
month; yet I saw no time to plant them, for I could
not think of failing in my engagement to send Juanico and my mule plough to Bani, before the close of
September, to assist Felix in cleaning his cotton field.
10*




226     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
Felix himself came to relieve me from this per
plexity. Whether or not he received beforehand a
hint to that purpose, fiom my quiet but never inattentive Juanico, I cannot say, for we have never had
a word on the subject. I have a private surmise;
but all I know is that it so fell out, when I sent
over my incomparanble man Friday to inquire at what
time Felix would require our help, that he returned
with Felix himself, both of them brimming over with
a new set of propositions.
Felix wanted to buy either the donkey cultivator
or the mule plough, he was not particular which, but
rather preferred the " cultivator." He said he did not
wish to order one from the United States, for something imperfect might come, or at least some mdquina which he did not understand. He esteemed
mine because he had tried both plough and weeder,
and knew them to be " miracles of utility."
Therefore he would'" supplicate" me to hear the explanatirons he had made to his friend Juanico, who, he
observed, in an emphatic parenthesis, was my attached and faithful servant, like himself, and when I




LIF E  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    227
should understand the whole business, he hoped and
believed that I would render him the favor he so
ardently solicited.
After such a splendid harangue, I could only say
in a few words that I had not dreamed of parting
with either plough or cultivator, seeing there were
no others in Santo Domingo, but that I would with
much pleasure write to the United States and obtain
precisely similar articles for him, in the course of perhaps two months.
"But have the kindness to hear from Juanico the
explanations which I have had with him on this affair
before you give me a positive answer," said Felix.
" Cannot you state them for yourself, Felix?" I
asked, somewhat amused at the idea of his employing
another to speak for him when he was there present,
and capable at any time, and on any subject,-of onttalking half a dozen Juanicos.
" Excuse me, Sefior. Juanico can express it all
in the most proper manner," said Felix, bowing and
backing himself out of the door, leaving the hitherto
silent Juanico in sole possession of the floor.




228     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
"Well, Juanico, what does our friend Felix expect
of me?" I inquired. Juanico came to the point at a
bound. He is not the man to waste time in circumlocution.
"Felix is crazy to own a plough, and he will contract to plant and guarantee the success of fifty cocoas
nacidos (sprouted cocoa-nuts) as a premium  on the
regular price, which he will pay in money."
"How did he halppen to think of the cocoa-nut
planting?" I asked, a little mischievously, for these
the footprints of Juanico's diplomacy were too
plain to require all the " explanations" with which
Felix covered himself as with a mantle of state.
" You were speaking of a cocoa-nut grove, Sefior,"
said Juanico, modestly, " and Felix knows better than
any one else around here, not only where to look for
the sprouted nuts, but also how to plant them properly. It is not every one who has a lucky hand in planting cocoa-nuts," he added, softly.
" His offer is a tempting one, Juanico, but I fear it
is growing rather late for planting this year. We owe
Felix plough-work for all next week, and after that




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    229
we must think of getting in our early yuca, to meet
our engagement with Captain Ramirez. This will cartry
us so far into October, that I am afraid to undertake
the cocoa-nut grove this fall."
" If it is your will to plant one, Sefior, Felix must
set aside his work until yours is done. All that is
perfectly understood," said Juanico, with a smile of
gentle satisfaction.
1" But then comes our own fall work," I continued,
dubiously.' "How are we to manage the crops in the
new field, Juanico, without at least one ploughing?
We must turn under the first heavy crop of weeds,
and go over it once, if not twice, with the cultivator."
"That is understood also, Sefior, if you please to
have it so," answered Juanico, quietly, in the
tone of one who has thoroughly explored a knotty
question, and feels that he has mastered all its rough
points. " Felix will be satisfied to have me and the
plough for a week in October. He will not ask for
it until after the cocoa-nut grove is arranged to
your complete satisfaction. At the end of the week




230     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
Juanico and the plough will return to you, Sefior, if
it please God, in a disposition to serve you until you
have no more need of them."
c' It will be a long time before the day comes when
I shall not need you, my faithful Juanico," I answered in hearty sincerity; " but as to the plough, it would
seem that your plan is to sell it to Felix, but keep it
for my own use all the same."
Juanico smiled the soft, winning smile that becomes
so well his handsome mouth and dark Indian face,
but made no other reply.
1" I think Felix has set his mind more on the donkey cultivator than on the mule plough," I resumed,
after reflecting a moment.
"He will be well contented with either one of
them," said Juanico in reply; "but whichever mdquina you may choose to grant him, he receives on
the condition "that it must remain at your command while you have use for it."
"On these conditions, Juanico, I think we may
afford to part with the cultivator as soon as we have
given the October cleaning to our new crops. Felix,




LIFE   IN  ST. D OMINGO.    231
it seems, pays for it in advance, and has the temporary
ulse of it when we can spare it, and only receives it
finally, late in the fall, when we have no further need
for it, and when consequently it cannot serve hinm
for this year's work. It strikes me, Juanico, that
this is a safe bargain, on our side at least."
" Then you are satisfied with my explanation,
Sefior!" said Juanico, with unwonted animation.
"Felix may count on having one of the mdquinas."
"Yes, if he seriously desires it on such terms," I
replied. " But will he commence planting my cocoanut grove without delay?"
"Ah, Sefior, you may be certain of it.  He will
plunder his own mother if there is no other way
to get fifty sprouted nuts, and will have them here
and planted within three days." said Juanico, confidently.
Still, with the most enthusiastic desire to perfect the
bargain at the quickest, Felix had not only to exert
himself with energy, but I had to work with him,
and engage another man to work with us, to get
through the business in a week.




232     LIFE   IN   ST. DOMtINGO.
There was some hesitation in the choice of a part
of the ground.  The cocoa-nut delights in a sandy
and not too rich soil, where its extensive roots can
strike deep and spread far; and the only suitable
place is at the farther side of the new field, more
out of sight than I like to place a tempting fruitgrove. The ground had been cleared with reference
to an October planting of pole-beans, and the tall
stems of a thicket of saplings had been purposely
left for the accommodation of the climbing'vines
WVe had to cut these bean-supports away in a great
measure, to make room for the cocoa-nuts in their due
spaces, twenty-five feet apart; and, when we came to
-measure the ground, it appeared there was not enough
of this sandy hollow under fence to accommodate
more than forty trees. On the other side of the new
field fence, in the ten or twelve acres still unenclosed,
which I reserve for pasture, there is a larger strip of
sandy soil, running the whole breadth of the " outside
land," along the road, but it is not safe in its present
unenclosed condition.
The animals at large would browse off the young




LIFE  IN  ST. DOM INGO.    233
leaves and kill the plants, if any were set out before
it was fenced, and more fencing is out of question
this year; so I had to take things as they were.
One whole day was spent in clearing the lines, and
the second I left my hired hand to dig the holes whercI had marked places for them, and went home to send
Juanico down to the beach for a cart-load of salt seasand.
While at the cottage Felix arrived with a very long
face, and a very short account of sprouted cocoa-nuts.
He had ranged fiom Savana Grande to Bani and had
obtained only fourteen reliable nuts.  "There is a
miserable wretch at Bani," he said, with a bitterness
almost comical in its concentration, "' who had more
than three dozen laid up in a corner of his plantain
walk. Only last night he exchanged all these with
me for a sheep, which I delivered to him on the spot,
but now the false dog refuses to complete his bargain, and I had to almost take with violence, from
one friend and another, these few I have brought
you. "
"  Well, Felix, we will go out and plant these to



234     LIFE  IN  ST. DoMINGO.
day. To-morrow we may find more in some other
quarter."
Felix shook his head dolefully, as much as to say
that it was a desperate hope, and that when he despaired of accomplishing any thing it was folly for any
other man to think of succeeding. He followed me
to the field with his meagre donkey-load nevertheless,
and before we had finished our planting he had talked
himself into a more cheerful view of the case. It was
an alleviating circumstance that, for want of immediate
space, probably no more than forty nacidos would be
required this year. I am obstinate in the idea, that
it is not profitable to plant fruit-trees of any kind
in a crowded, irregular manner, still less would I
waste time and trouble in setting them out in an unsafe situation, where the chances are strongly against
their living six months. After all, a grove of
forty bearing trees will yield a goodly supply of cocoanuts.
In a congenial soil, and with ample space, a cocoa
will drop about two hundred nuts in a year, while in
a clayey or rocky soil a crowded grove will scarcely




LIFE  IN  ST. D oMINGO.            23"
average forty. When treated two or three times a
year to a handful of salt, by throwing it into the
green heart of the plume of branches, a thriving cocoa
will often begin to bear in five years; but without
this attention it is not to be expected under its seventh year,-a gain of two years in time and a double
yield of fruit for a half hour of attention, and perhaps
a pint of salt to each tree.
In planting, it is only necessary to dig a hole somewhat more than large enough to hold the sprouted
nut, which will generally have a little rootlet or two
piercing through the husk, at the same time that a
green tuft emerges from the stem end. Two or three
quarts of moist sea-sand is thrown under and around
the nut, when the sea-sand is obtainable; and when
it is not, a handful of common salt is mixed with the
earth and put in lightly around it in place of the sand.
The nut should be set with just enough pressure
to hold the sprout upright in its place, with the upper surface of the nut at the level or slightly above
the level of the ground, and if it can be shaded for a
month or two it is all the better.




236      LIFE  IN  ST. DOuIN GO..
The Dominicans call this very careful planting, and
this, with the moderate trouble of hoeing away
the weeds three or four times the first year-about
as much labor as a 1Nrorthern farmer bestows upon
every hill of corn which he raises-is positively all
that the neatest and most considerate of planters ever
thinks of devoting to a cocoa-nut grove.  With this
much care, not one out of twenty healthy sprouts will
fail to flourish, if planted any time between the beginning of May and the last of September. Yet many,
if not most, of the small land owners on this island
consent to live without the comfort of possessing a
single one of these precious and hardy trees on their
homesteads.
I shall try hard to procure forty nuts at least, since
I cannot carry out my plan for fifty, and am not likely to be disappointed in their well-being.
Felix and I had planted our first fourteen,
and were helping Juanico distribute his load of
sea-sand in the holes my hired man was making
for their companions, should I have the good fortune to obtain them, when the gathering clouds




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMrIN G.            23T
warned us to seek shelter from a heavy rain not
far off.
Felix started on a run directly for the cottage, and
Juanico and I followed with the donkey-cart by the
road, after finishing with the sand. As we were
opening the gate of the Home Field, Juanico happened to glance down the road, and spied a woman
travelling at extraordinary speed, considering that
she was mounted on a wonderfully small donkey, for,
as a rule, none of these animals are remarkable for
swiftness. She called out to us, to ask if there was
not a gentleman known as Sefior Vecino who lived
somewhere in this neighborhood. I replied that I
answered to that name among my neighbors, and
waited for her to draw up and take breath, although
the sky was rapidly darkening overhead.
"If you are the Sefior, I am your servant Rosa
Dalmeyda, and have some business with you," she
said, as she joined us.
"In that case I must beg of you to proceed
to the house, for the rain will be upon us in a mo-o
ment," I answered, wondering what she could




238     LIFE  IN  ST. DO MINGO.
want of me, and how I should dispose of her this
rainy evening.
I hastened to conduct my unexpected visitor to the
cottage; and we were not a second too soon, for the
thunder-storm burst upon us in torrents before we
were fairly seated. Felix had gone, for the moment,
to the old cabin, where he has his night-quarters,
and Juanico hurried to the shed behind it, to shelter
Burro and the stranger's donkey, so that I was left
alone to attend to my visitor, and learn at her pleasure what business she had come to transact with me.
I was not kept long in suspense.
The amiable Rosa informed me off-hand that she
was the wife of " the man Andres, who had sold a
quantity of magnificent cocoas nacidas to'Sefior'
Felix," which magnificent nacidas she understood
were destined for me; and she had made this journey to know if in truth I wanted to buy them, and
whether I was disposed to pay for them in silver.
I answered by asking if her husband had not
already received from "Sefior" Felix the payment
agreed upon. With a charming frankness Rosa




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    239
Dalmeyda admitted that the "man Andres" had,
only the night before, received a young sheep according to contract; further, that he had brought it home
and killed it, but that he had carried off most of the
meat and sold it for rum.
" Andres went to bed drunk," she continued, "and
I went out with my son and nephew and hid the
nacidas where the beast could not find them in the
morning."  Rosa then went on to inform me, in the
free and easy spirit of frankness characteristic of her
class, that for me there would be no cocoa-nuts until
she saw the silver.
" So Sefior Felix cannot receive the cocoa-nuts he
has paid for, and I perhaps may not obtain them at
all?" I observed, interrogatively.
" Of course not, Sefior, unless I am paid for them,"
said Rosa, with a determined toss of her head. " It
is I who own the trees. I planted them when we
were first married, and I must have the price for
the nuts."
"But Sefior Felix may choose to call Andres before
the Alcalde for selling property that does not belong




240     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
to him," I ventured to observe; " and this you know,
Rosa, is a matter of imprisonment under the Spanish
law."
" That is not my affair," replied the affectionate
wife, with sublime composure. "What concerns me
is, to learn whether you decide to buy my cocoanuts. Yes or no?"
"That depends upon what Felix says, and there
he is to give us his opinion on the subject," I
said, looking up at Felix, who had stopped in
the doorway, surprised at this sudden apparition
of his Bani neighbor in my premises.
Felix was severely polite with her, but she forced
him, in spite of every thing, to admit that she was
really the owner of the cocoa-nuts, and that she had,
by law and custom, the right to receive payment for
them. Felix protested against paying twice, but I
finally compromised matters by agreeing to give her
ut real de diez each-ten cents-for twenty-six nuts,
the number I then thought I required to fill out my
space.
As soon as this was settled Rosa asked for her




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    241
donkey, for the shower was over, and started off
by the starlight to meet her nephew at the house of a
friend in the neighborhood. She had out-rode the
boy because his donkey was loaded with a portion
of the very nacidas in question, which she now
declared she had brought with her, in the faith that
I must and would buy them, as there were no others
to be had at that moment. She promised, and
she kept her promise, to be at the gate of the
new field with her whole load punctually at sunrise.
She also engaged that her nephew should assist in
planting them, and that too was fulfilled to the letter.
At break of day Juanico started for the beach for
another load of sea-sand, while Felix and I, after an
early cup of coffee, went directly to the field to meet
Rosa and her charge. Many hands make light work,
and the balance of my triple row of sprouted cocoas
were in the ground by ten in the forenoon. We
added one more plant to our first line of fourteen,
making fifteen in the row nearest the fence, and set
twelve in each of the two parallel rows, and then the
nuts gave out.
]1




242     LIFE  IN  ST. Do  INGO.
On close measuring, I saw that by removing two
large stumps, which were badly in the way, I could
extend the second and third lines as far as the
first, and so make my cocoa-grove a regular oblong
of two hundred and seventy-five feet by seventyfive, containing three lines of cocoas-fifteen in
each line and forty-five in all. This will entirely
fill up the only bit of poor land I have under
fence, and will scarcely trench on the good land by
it. Before we left the field I made my arrangements
to have the stumps dug out, and secured another
half dozen cnacidas from Rosa.
She was punctual, and to-day, the 29th of September, the planting of my cocoa-nut grove is, happily for me, an accomplished fact.




LIFE   IN   ST. Do 31 I N G O            2-13
CHAPTER XI.
OCTOBER.
Triumph of Felix. —Auspicious return of Juanico.-Iis unwonted
gayety.-How accounted for.-Don Delfino imports a StumpExtractor.-Great excitement in the neighborhood.-We muster our forces.-How we obtain recruits.-The process of
stump-extracting.-Anita's collation.-Private dinner in the
North Arbor.-Don Julio appears again.-Fresh attack on the
enemy.-Close of the contest.-The "Extractor" victorious.Delfino's invitation.-I accept it.-His plantation.-What we
do there.
THIS lovely October has been almost a month of
festival, though by no means a month of idleness.
At the close of September Felix carried off in triumph the mule-plough and the donkey-cultivator,
together with Juanico to aid in their management,
and he astonished to his heart's content the good
people of Bani by their stupendous success in the
cotton-field.
This field, of perhaps three acres in extent, had




24z4    LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO..
been prepared and planted by the hoe alone in all
May, and it is now bursting into ripe and snowy
bolls in every direction. It was while Felix was
giving this field its first clearing with the hoe, that
he heard from some stray visitor an account of the
wonderful performances of the donkey "limpiador"
in my corn-field, and he forthwith formed a desire to
see its action, but with scarcely the remotest idea of
ever owning one himself.
When Juanico, his cousin three times removed,
applied to him for banana-roots, I presume the hope
and the way of using such mdaquinas himself first
opened dimly before him, and he pursued the
thought until he has realized his desire.
In a week Juanico, Felix, and the mdquinas had
among them done all that it was possible to do for
his corn and cotton-fields, both being, in fact, many
weeks past the time in which the weeding ought
to have been performed; but the profound ambition
of Felix was perfectly accomplished.  He overwhelmed the doubts of his hitherto incredulous and
sneering neighbors by his splendid operations, and,




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMIN GO 0.    245
in his own words, "granting that it was attempted somewhat late in the season, it was worth
more than it cost to tear up the ground so magnificently."
The whole turn-out came back radiant with
victory. Felix, Juanico, the donkey-cart, with
plough and cultivator stowed safe and sound amid a
pile of cabbages and sugar-cane, rolled up to the
cottage-the whole concern singing and rattling
in a chorus of glee-very late Saturday night.
They found me still up, and as happy as themselves.
Delfino had rode in an hour before them, and had
promised to stay most of the coming week with me.
He expected by the Alice some farming implements,
which had just arrived at Santo Domingo City in a
vessel from New York, and we were to examine and
prove some of them at my place before they were
sent up to his plantation.
Juanico was delighted to see his old master, and
imputed his unwonted flow of gayety, which he
declared he had felt all the way home from Bani,




246    LIFE, IN  ST. DoMIN GO.
" to an inspiration that a great pleasure was awaiting
him." I was so uncharitable as to suspect that a
drop or two of native spirits had some part in
unloosing the tongue of my usually serious and quiet
retainer, but I kept this unfeeling suspicion closely
to myself.
Felix had only returned with Juanico to spend
Sunday and attend church at Nizao; but when he
understood that among other things Senor Delfino
would probably receive by the Alice a mdquina for
pulling stumps out of the ground, as a dentist draws
teeth, he was all alive to have a hand in the first experiment.
The only ground I had open to this work was the
corner of the Home Field occupied by a part of the
yuca crop, which I was at this very time taking out
and delivering to Captain Ramirez on our old contract.
Felix volunteered his help to dig the yuca, as well
as in operating the stump machine; and on its being
accepted he started home directly from church in
the morning, to get his working clothes and give




LIFE -IN  ST. DOMINGO.    247
some farm directions, in order to hasten back by
Monday evening.  While Juanico was absent at
Bani I had commenced digging yuca with two hired
men under charge of Juan, and fortunately that business was nearly over when Delfino arrived.
I have also had to make the rounds of my fruittrees this month; pruning here;- earthing up there,
and leaving them clean about the roots everywhere;
and this, with an hour's help and supervision in the
yuca patch, pretty well carried away my forenoons
for the first two weeks in October. There was
plenty to do still before me, but now that I had Delfino with me the work went merrily on.
The men had to labor steadily in the yuca-field, for
Captain Ramirez was impatient to get the crop to
market. He made his account handsomely with the
potatoes, and hoped to do quite as well with the yuca,
but in this we were both somewhat disappointed.
The potatoes were in the main planted in the old
clearing, where the ox-plough could be driven
through the rich loam without much difficulty. A
large portion of the yuca, on the contrary, was plant



248     LIFE  IN  ST. D oMINGo.
ed in the fresh clearing, where the plough could only
meander among the stumps in a tediously imperfect
manner, and where much of the work, from beginning to end, digging out the crdp included, had to be
done in the slow, laborious, and unprofitable mode
of the country, which is invariably by hand, with
the heavy native hoes. The result is, that it cost me
three times as much labor to get two hundred
bushels of yuca out of this stumpy ground as it did
to take up the same quantity of potatoes, where I
could furrow them out with the plough. The yield
is also fifty per cent. less to the acre; the roots not
only being few in number, but small in size; and my
gains on this part of my planting are very insignificant. This discouraging comparison only applies,
however, to the acre and half, or thereabouts,
dotted with stumps; the remainder of the yuca was
on clear ground, and has made me as good returns
as my corn and potatoes.
Felix came back in time to aid us in disposing of
the last of the yueca, and every thing was made ready
to welcome the" stump-extractor."




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    249
The Alice did not heave in sight until late Tuesday
afternoon, and we had a busy day Wednesday getting Delfino's property ashore and housed. The
stump-puller we set up at once on the field of operations, and gave it a hurried trial the same afternoon,
but it was already late, and we were, besides, too
tired to attack a stump of respectable size that
evening.
On Thursday we mustered in full array, and after
selecting a grand old logwood stump to start with,
we all went at it with vigorous determination.
Juanico hoed away the ground, to lay bare to the
axe the large out-lying roots; I chopped them
off, at a distance of two feet or thirty inches from
the stem; Delfino adjusted the heavy chain-hooks
to these prongs, and Juan, Felix, and a stalwart
native plied the lever. Slowly, but surely, uprose
the stump, "broadside to," until it rested on the
tips of the set of prongs opposite to those held by
the chains. Then we "slacked away," and carried
the hooks close into the body of the stump for
pull number two.
11*




250     LIFE  IN  ST. DO   IN GO.
All hands now bent to the lever, for we were all
excited with our splendid beginning, and eager to
give it the crowning touch. The binding underroots strained anid snapped, the earth dropped away,
and the gnarled and spreading net-work lay upturned to the sun. Felix was in ecstasy; Delfino
gave a long, glad shout, and I am sure I did my
part towards swelling the hubbub of joy that
welcomed the brave first effort of our new stumpmachine.
In a short time several of our neighbors presented
themselves, to look and talk merely, as they had
flattered themselves, but, as we chose to interpret
the situation, to work with us. We soon had
them busy with hoe, axe, and lever. Delfino and
I organized ourselves into a committee of direction; and when at dinner we revised our proceedings, and reported to each other in detail, we were
unanimously of the opinion that we had performed
our duties to admiration. Whenever a well-built,
sinewy man entered the field, we invited him to try
with us the magical powers of the lever, or (merely




LIFE  IN  ST. Do MINGO.    251
to show him  how the whole thing was done) to
spell Juan with the axe or Felix with the hoe.
If he came mounted we borrowed his animal, and
himself with it, to drag away the extracted roots
which "impeded the free progress of the work."
Nobody was spared, and there was no relaxation
of effort in any department until about twenty
stumps had been wrested from the bosom of mother
earth.
Anita, who had been collecting the wherewith
in honor of Delfino's company, contrived a rather
neat collation, to which all who had held out till
noon were invited. After the rest of the family
and the strangers were dispatched, she gave us, that
is, Delfino and myself, a mysterious hint to retire to
the "North Arbor."  This is an affair more shed
than arbor, which Juanico and I had put up at
odd hours against the rear of the cottage, for a kind
of kitchen, and sleeping-place for an occasional hired
hand. It is a retired nook, one side of which is
covered with a firuit-yielding variety of the passionflower, and Anita had now set it in order for a




252     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
more elaborate dinner, which she had prepared for
the Se.or Vecino y sus amigos nobles-for me
and my " noble friends."
I understand Anita's motives in securing me a
little quiet and privacy at meal-time and looked
round for Delfino. He had started off before me,
and I stepped in after him to a most pleasant surprise. For Don Julio met me at the doorway with
outstretched hand, and explained that he had
cautioned Anita not to mention his arrival, until
I had disposed of the men who had followed me
from the field. He too had come to see the opera
tion of the "Yankee Stump-Extractor," but he
laughingly warned me not to expect much assistance
from him; for he did not take kindly to axe, hoe,
or lever; having in short a constitutional inaptness
for all classes of useful employment.
Delfino replied that the mdquina was a curiosity
not to be exhibited or comprehended under the price
of at least an hour's faithful service; still, out of
tender consideration to his friend's chronic debility,
moral and physical, which, he was sorry to admit, he




LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    253
knew was no pretence, but an affecting and incurable
reality, the terms should be modified to meet his case.
Don Julio would only be required to put to work and
keep at work, whatever tenants of his own should
happen to straggle in upon us during the afternoon.
"Will you not accept as a substitute my mayoral,
who is coming over with a brace of hands and a
yoke of oxen, to offer their assistance for a day or
two?" inquired Don Julio, as he seated himself at
the table, and held out his plate for some of Anita's
appetizing chowder.
" By no means; I will prove to you that it is an absurd proposition, amigo mio," said Delfino, holding
out his plate in turn. " Your mayoral, your servants
and your oxen, must be considered as pupils, whom
we shall favor gratis with a course of instruction in
a new and profound branch of science. They ought
to pay us liberally for teaching them, but we are
generous, and will waive that, only insisting that
you, who unfortunately have not the capacity to
learn any thing useful, shall be kept out of mischief
by at least'playing work.'"




254    LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
Anita put an end to this pleasant war of words by
bringing in the roasted chicken, and with it a message from Juanico to the effect that Don Julio's people had come, and that Felix had already returned to
the field with them, and that he, Juanico, was waiting my orders. I directed him to go on as in the forenoon, with axe and hoe, preparing the roots for the
action of the mdcquina until we joined them. Delfino added a charge that every man who entered the
field should forthwith be set to work, but that no one,
not even Felix, should be permitted to use or meddle
with the stump-machine until we were on the ground
to direct its management. We then voted ourselves,
after the fashion of managers, another hour of rest
before we joined the laborers, and that brought us
among them only when it was nearly three in the
afternoon.
We found half the working  men of Savana
Grande, and a sprinkling of the women, assembled to
witness proceedings, but few of them were allowed
to be idle spectators. Those who had neither hoe nor
axe to work with, were directed how to chop off the




LIFE  IN  ST. DO  ING0.    255
roots of the smaller stumps with their machetes; and
those who could do nothing else were employed in
prying up the points of the prongs the others had
cut, thus putting them in greater readiness to receive
the chain-hooks. Felix and Don Julio's old mayoral
flew about the field like men possessed with the very
demon of activity, giving no one a moment's respite,
and really getting no small amount of hard work out
of these forced recruits. The stump-machine was
well plied that afternoon.
Delfino took the charge of that, with the serene pride of conscious power.  He would, as
a particular favor, call up by threes and fours the
men who had been at work getting the roots in
the proper state, and teach them practically, as part
of the entertainment, how to use the lever. Now
and then an obstinate old stager would cling to its
long anchorage with especial tenacity, but we overcame them one by one as we went on, and left nothing behind us but one large and stubborn mahogany
stump, not far from the corner.
This patriarch of the forest had been cut down




256     LIFE  IN  ST. DO MINGO.
long before I bought the place, but its vast size and
solid spreading roots were still too fresh and stout
for our hand-power extractor. We did not waste
much time on it, however, and the less, as we used
that corner for piling up roots to dry for fuel. A
little hill of stumps soon rose upon and around
the mahogany giant as we held on in steady earnest
for the rest of the week.
The machine had been warranted to clear half an
acre a-day, if worked by two good men, but it falls
considerably short of this with us, though we had
hoe and axemen to cut off the main spreaders, and
two, often four men to work the lever. In three days,
with plenty of help and no bad weather to impede
us, we had gone over but about an acre. However,
it was thoroughly cleared, with the single exception
of that royal old mahogany stump. It was curious
to see how the ground was dimpled with fresh holes,
as if it had passed through a severe visitation of the
small-pox.
Delfino suggests planting Irish potatoes in these
beds, in a peculiar method, which he says a friend of




LIFE  IN  ST. DO)MINGO.    257
his has lately tried with success, not in chance holes,
but in trenches made for the purpose. For the last
three or four years this gentleman has in this manner
raised all he wants for family use. A part of the
ground lies over for this experiment, which properly
belongs to November, but the rest of it had to go
under the plough at once for a crop of field-peas.
Delfino's mule-cart carried off, at the close of the
week, most of the various articles the Alice brought
for him, but he left the stump-machine with me for a
few days. He would not take it away while my work
was unfinished; besides, he wished his intelligent
and confidential man Isidro to remain with me to
practise upon it, as he had formerly done with the
plough, and thus fit himself to assist his master in
teaching the other servants how to use and take care
of it.
Delfino himself finally decided to remain with me
on condition that I would return with him to his
plantation, if only to pass Saturday and Sunday.
I had closed and settled my yuca engagement with
Captain Ramirez; the field-peas could be, and were




258     LI FE  IN   ST. DOMINGO.
attended to during the balance of Delfino's stay; all
the farm-work for October was well out of hand, and
what remained to be done could very safely be left
to my trusty Juenico; so I felt myself free to close
October with a few days' delightful relaxation with
my friend Delfino on his sugar plantation.
His servant Isidro was directed to follow us on
foot at his leisure, and I mounted the fine horse on
which he came, to make the first pleasure trip I have
allowed myself since my arrival in Santo Domningo.
We had a charming ride through a lovely country,
over the broad savannas and then up through the
romantic hills that encircle the town and table-lands
of San Cristoval. The balmy, delicious mornings of
Santo DominTo are seldom marred by high winds or
rain, and in the exhilaration of our dashing ride, on
Delfino's swift, easy-paced horses, the air seemed
more fragrant and invigorating than ever.
Delfino's place is charmingly situated on the crest
of a commanding plateau and replete with country
comforts. Every thing is home-like and I felt at
home. We went over his large plantation watching,




LIFE  IN  ST. Do MIN GO. 0           259
examining, noting, comparing, planning, and working, even as we had gone together over my wild
little homestead, both of us full of improvement projects.
Delfino is sick and tired of the hoe husbandry of
Santo Domingo, and is bent on introducing our
labor-saving implements from the United States.
With such a tedious, expensive, unsatisfactory mode
of tilling the soil, I only wonder that any man has
the courage to attempt it. The one thing for which
it will answer is said to be coffee, and Delfino's coffee
grove undoubtedly does pay very well indeed, for
the soil and climate are favorable and it is judiciously tended. But as to his sugar-field it does not return him, acre for acre, as much by forty per cent. as
I have made out of my corn, beans, and potatoes.
Sugar-raising on a large scale, with the best implements of agriculture, and suitable means for extracting and refining it, is probably the most profitable
crop in the world except cotton, in a good cotton
region; but to a man with narrow, imperfect means,
breadstuffs and field vegetables are by far the surest




260     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
dependence. This much I have learned for a certainty from my visit at Delfino's plantation. I had
thought so before, but on a close scrutiny of out-go
and income, I now know by reliable facts and figures that our northern way of cultivation, applied to
products which every farmer there understands,
may be counted upon, acre for acre and man for
man, for a yield quite equal to any average sugarcrop. It is the bounteous climate, which allows productions to go on all the year round, and insures a
continued succession of crops, and not this or that
pet product, which makes tropical farming so profitable. Sugar, cotton, coffee, and indigo, undoubtedly
make rich returns, but so does every other crop that
man demands for his daily use; and every one with
health and energy to do a man's work, can be sure
of earning more in his potato and corn field than
the best hands can clear in sugar, on average years.
Delfino and I examined this point carefully, and,
though we differed at first, we both came at last positively to this conclusion.




LIF E  IN  ST. DOMINGO.              259
examining, noting, comparing, planning, and working, even as we had gone together over my wild
little homestead, both of us full of improvement projects.
Delfino is sick and tired of the hoe husbandry of
Santo Domingo, and is bent on introducing our
labor-saving implements from  the United States.
With such a tedious, expensive, unsatisfactory mode
of tilling the soil, I only wonder that any man has
the courage to attempt it. The one thing for which
it will answer is said to be coffee, and Delfino's coffee
grove undoubtedly does pay very well indeed, for
the soil and climate are favorable and it is judiciously tended. But as to his sugar-field it does not return him, acre for acre, as much by forty per cent. as
I have made out of my corn, beans, and potatoes.
Sugar-raising on a large scale, with the best implements of agriculture, and suitable means for extracting and refining it, is probably the most profitable
crop in the world except cotton, in a good cotton
region; but to a man with narrow, imperfect means,
breadstuffs and field vegetables are by far the surest




260     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
dependence. This much I have learned for a certainty from my visit at Delfino's plantation. I had
thought so before, but on a close scrutiny of out-go
and income, I now know by reliable facts and figures that our northern way of cultivation, applied to
products which every farmer there understands,
may be counted upon, acre for acre and man for
man, for a yield quite equal to any average sugarcrop. It is the bounteous climate, which allows productions to go on all the year round, and insures a
continued succession of crops, and not this or that
pet product, which makes tropical farming so profitable. Sugar, cotton, coffee, and indigo, undoubtedly
make rich returns, but so does every other crop that
man demands for his daily use; and every one with
health and energy to do a man's work, can be sure
of earning more in his potato and corn field than
the best hands can clear in sugar, on average years.
Delfino and I examined this point carefully, and,
though we differed at first, we both came at last positively to this conclusion.




LIFE  IN   ST. DOMINGO.                  2(;1
CHAPTER XII.
NOVEMBER.
Finish my visit.-Delfino surprises me.-We both return to Palenque.-Expected important arrivals.-Anita. —Fishing-day. —
"Yankee' Charles, of Baltimore." —His history.-American
newspapers.-The  " Stranger's Rest."-All Saints' Day.Favorable omen.-Improvise a bee-hive.-Arrival of agricultural implements.-All grievously disappointed.-Dishonesty of the "house" in New York.-A warning to buyers.Juanico and his garlic-bed.-Visit from Manuel, the carpenter.-Furniture from my own mahogany grove.
RESISTING my own inclinations, as well as Delfino's
kind importunities to prolong my stay at his charming plantation, I made ready to start for home at
daybreak the first morning of November. There
was no extra press of work before me, but there
was a series of secondary matters that required my
attention, each in its due order; and every man that
has any thing whatever to do, knows how much he
gains in ease of mind, body, and business by a sted



262     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
fast care to always do the right thing at the right
time.
At the first stir of the household, I arose and
looked out in the gray of the morning for a parting
glance at the wide prospect commanded by the large
window of my bed-chamber. As my eye roved in the
direction of the " sugar-house" I perceived Isidro leading forward three saddle-horses instead of the single
one I had expected to see standing at the door for my
use. Delfino stepped out to meet him, and as he did
so he caught sight of me, and instantly his cheerful
voice rang through the house, summoning "each and
every sluggard bound for Palenque to present himself for breakfast;" a summons I lost no time in
answering.
While dispatching our coffee and omelette,
Delfino told me he had decided over-night to go
back with me, as he expected letters by the Alice
in reply to some he had written to Santo Domingo
City, and that he also wished to see and try with me
a mill for grinding arrow-root which Don Julio had
ordered from New York.




L I F E  IN  S T. DOMIN GO.    263
He had heard of the arrival of two vessels from
New York, through a friend from that city who had
passed by his house the day before, and he therefore
considered it more than probable that the arrow-root
mill might even then be on its way to Palenque.
" And why did you not mention this before?" I
asked, in surprise. "You know, Delfino, that I
have a kind of interest in this machine, and that it
cannot be operated until I set it up and teach some
of Don Julio's men how to manage it."
"Precisely for that reason I did not speak of it.
You would have shot off to Palenque Bay at the first
word, and I did not choose to supply the powder for
such  a catastrophe," answered Delfino, lightly.
"Julio and the machine can wait until we come, and
the more calmly, as neither you nor Julio have such
an immensity of arrow-root but that you can get
through with it all before Christmas."
"' But we also want to apply the mill to grinding
yuca for cassava bread, and for making starch, and
there is plenty of that ready now," I said.
" Never mind, we shall be in the midst of it all in




264     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
good time, especially if we hurry up our horses,
The Alice will scarcely be due before to-day, and by
noon we will be ready to receive her as she touches
the landing."
We dispatched our early breakfast, and were on
the road at sunrise.  Our ride seaward, with the
fresh and welcome breeze playing upon us all the
way down the hill-slopes and across the green level
of Savana Grande, was truly delightful.
We were at the entrance of the New Road, leading by my homestead to Palenque, before nine; and
sending Isidro to the house to inform Juanico of our
arrival, in time, as Delfino said, " to warn Anita to
put forward her highest company flourishes for dinner," we rode leisurely along to the Bay.
It was "fishing-day" at Palenque, and we found
half the men of the neighborhood there, either to
help draw the seine or to buy fish, or traffic with
Yankee Charles for his famous "pies, pastry, and
ginger cordial, all made in first-rate American
fashion."
The custom of fishing with the seine on a fixed




LIFE  IN   ST. DOMINGO.            265
day of the week, and the establishment of Yankee
Charles's house of entertainment, are both excellent
institutions, and both have grown out of the opening of a direct cross-road from the great highway of the savannas to Port Palenque-now  much
used-in connection with the regular trips of
the coasting-sloop Alice.
Many other coasters, and occasionally some larger
craft from foreign ports, visit Palenque, and have
done so for years, to take on board the freights of
precious woods which are sent here to be shipped;
but until the Alice became a regular trader, and
could be relied on as a kind of express-boat to carry,
at sure intervals, the lighter articles of home production and home necessity, no one about Palenque
thought of raising any such small matter as a little
corn or cassava for the Santo Domingo market.
Captain Ramirez opened this small but convenient
boat-trade by coming regularly for my garden-stuff,
together with any odd lots of satin-wood, or other
chance freights that might offer in those intervals
when the large planters and rich forest-owners had
12




266     LIF' E  IN  ST. DO M IN G  o.
no employment for him. The working people on the
prairies have availed themselves of this certainty of
reaching a good market in Santo Domingo City, and
getting back what they wanted through an intelligent
trader like Ramirez, and they begin to learn the convenience of a good road for the conveyance of their
stuff to and from the landing.
After this discovery on their part, I had but to set
the day and lead the work, to insure a general meeting for road-making, whenever it was necessary to
call the neighbors together for the purpose.
Neither were the great land-owners, whose domains touched the Bay, backward in sending men
and teams to assist in repairing the road, after it
became clear to them that this assistance was not
thrown away. They saw that it was in effect a real
enhancement to their broad but roadless and uncultivated estates, and some of them are now my fast
friends and liberal encouragers in these local improvements.
One day there dropped down on the margin of
Palenque Bay, how or from where I scarcely know,




LIFE  IN  ST. Do M INGO.'27
the keenest and readiest of Baltimore ship-stewards,
in search of employment. He drifted in, like a waif
of the sea, from a coasting craft, but was so taken
with the beauties of the place, or with those of a
dark damsel of the savanna, that he resolved to
anchor there for life. HIe obtained permission to put
up a cottage and fence in a snug garden at a low
ground-rent, and took to himself the tidy little
prairie-girl for a wife.
The pair soon became well known, and general
favorites throughout the neighborhood.
Their neat cottage, in which the town proprietors,
wood shippers, and coasting captains were certain
to find cleanly and comfortable entertainment, enlarged itself into a tienda, at which fine wheateu
rolls, nice cakes, and a superior cup of coffee were
always to be had, with the addition of a plate of
unrivalled fish-stew on the weekly " seine hauling."
Yankee Charles has made that day as gay and
busy as a fair in Europe, by the variety and excellence of his accommodations, and people of all
classes flock in to see the sport, and enjoy the splen



268     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
did sea-bathing, and they often wind up with a
lively dance in the evening.
Delfino and I rode up to his door without the
intention of dismounting, but Charles met us, cap
in hand, with such a polite invitation to come in and
"'try an oyster patty of American make," that we
could do no less than accept it.
I had heard of oysters in the vicinity of the Nizao,
but had never seen any, and was in truth rather
doubtful of their existence until Charles set the
veritable article before us. He conducted us to a
new building which he had just erected in his
garden, and which fronted the sea, "where," he
said, "gentlemen could be private and read the
papers, while he prepared any delicacy of the
season they might choose to order."
This last crowning touch of civilization overcame
Delfino, and he threw himself back in his chair for
a long, hearty laugh, while Charles, at my request,
produced his " latest American papers."
With a smile of calm triumph he laid before us
a respectable lot of the weekly HTerald, Sun, and




LIFE  IN  ST. DOM IN GO.    269
Sunday Dispatch, not very old, or, to express it with
due fairness, quite recent in date, considering where
we were. They were, at least, the latest I had seen,
and I was soon busied in them to the neglect of
the oyster patties and the other " delicacies," which
Charles had laid so neatly before us. Ramirez
brings me papers as they arrive from the States or
St. Thomas, and Charles has made interest with
him to obtain from the servants of the British and
American Consulates all the spare newspapers as
fast as their masters have done with them. IHe
informed us that he subscribed himself for a Spanish
literary monthly and the Santo Domingo Gazette,
and these he respectfully proffered to Delfino.
Verily, none but a man trained in the school of
Yankee enterprise would have attempted, or could
lave succeeded, in establishing such a "Stranger's
Rest" as this colored Charles has built up on the
shores of this delightful bay.
I feel a sympathy with his labors and successes,
for they are not unlike my own single-handed battle,
and, as in my case, his steady, earnest struggles for a




270     LIFE  IN   ST. DOMI N G O.
sure resting-place have won him a pleasant and
permanent homestead.
We lingered an hour over the " latest papers" and
"' oyster patties," and then, with one last sweeping,
lingering scrutiny seaward, in the hope of detecting
the sails of the Alice in the distance, we mounted our
horses and rode rapidly home. Juanico was watching for us at the gate, and his whole face lighted up
with honest joy at seeing us ride in, praising the
order and fieshness that reigned over the scene.
We gave our horses to Juanico and walked to the
cottage through the fruit-grove, gathering as we went
a few limes and an enormous " soursop," for our dinner beverage. Here a startling surprise arrested me.
As I reached up to seize a branch, in order to bring the
fruit within grasp. I observed a swarm of bees clustered on a limb above it, and hastily called to Delfino
for instructions. HIe has scores of hives on his plantation, and takes much interest in the management of
bees, but I had no idea he was such a practical adept.
He sent me with orders to the old cabin, where,
laying hands on an empty half-barrel, for I had no




LIFE  IN  ST. D OMINGO.    271
box, or bits of board, to turn into a more regular
hive, I bored four holes in the sides with the inchbit, and passed through, and across each other, a couple of sticks from the nearest bush, wedged them in
place, and carried this extemporized hive to Delfino
under the tree. Meanwhile he had spread under it a
table-cloth, which he had snatched from Anita's hands
as she was about arranging for dinner, and was brushing the bees down upon it when I joined him. He
had nothing over his face or on his hands, as he stood
looking up at the broken and confused swarm, while
he boldly brushed down the divided clusters. He
laughed at my timidity, as I stood hesitating at a
distance, and taking the barrel from my irresolute
hands he laid it on the cloth, and continued driving
the bees into it with a leafy twig until the main body
had actually entered.
"The queen-bee has gone in, and her subjects are
quietly exploring their new realm," said Delfino, peering into the capacious hive. "L We may leave them
now to make up their minds about settling in it, and
go to dinner. Anita will have to find another table



272     LIFtE IN  ST. DOMINGO.
cloth, however, for this must remain where it is until
dark, when we can move the hive to its place."
Anita disposed of the question of table-cloth without
difficulty, and she prophesied no end to the good fortune which an early swarm of bees, a swarm presented to me on All Saints' day, is infallibly to bring to
my house. May her words prove true! I am not
sanguine, though, on the subject of bees and honey,
for I have no experience in bee-culture, but I shall
manage my unexpected prize to the best of my ability.
In the afternoon I fitted up a bee-bench under the
interlocking canopy of the old coffee-trees beyond
the spring, and at dark Juanico, who I find has a
perfect knowledge of bee husbandry, conveyed the
barrel to its place. The busy tribe settled down to
work, and in three weeks had nearly filled the upper
third of their strange hive with clear, beautiful
comb.
I have only looked at them this once, but I am
getting up a decent stock of courage to encounter
the first young swarm they may send out.
In this country, as almost everywhere in tropical




LIFE  IN  ST. D oMIN GO.    273
America, the bees have two seasons in the year instead of one, as at the North. In the early spring
they lay up large quantities of honey, and swarm
freely in May and June. Then they rest awhile
from their labors, but resume them again in August.
This second term of honey is, I am told, inferior
to that of the spring season, but in November and
December most of the swarms throw out two or
three new ones; the young swarms of May and June
vying with the older ones in the number and vigor of
their colonies. Sometimes the winter swarming closes
in January, and the bees take another period of rest
during the balance of the dry season. They do not fail,
however, to lay up more or less honey, and with the
spring rains they recommence again.
Mine of the first of November were rather early in
the season, but it is by no means a remarkable
case. There is always some swarming early in November, though not on the extensive and prolific
scale generally witnessed later in the month and
throughout December.
This much for the bees, every word of which is,
12*




2 74    L IFE  IN  ST. DOM I N GO.
however, borrowed from the lips of my friend Delfino, who promised, moreover, to instruct me in the
art of making a medicinal cordial from honey and
fresh ginger. How valuable it may be as a medicine,
I cannot attest, but to its merits as a pleasant and
palatable cordial I can bear witness, for I enjoyed it
with uncommon zest while at his plantation.
The Alice came in late at night, and in the morning we went in force to the landing to take charge of
the long-expected arrow-root mill. Don Julio met
us there, as impatient as ourselves to see it in operation.
I was vexed to see that it had been shipped in a
shamefuilly careless manner by the New York agricultural-warehouse firm, and I would fain publish the
name of this concern, that others may learn not to
trust its guaranties, when they boastfully announce,
" that whoever orders any thing from their house may
depend upon the superior quality of the articles, and
also on the greatest care being taken to pack them
suitably for transportation."
The mill for " grinding arrow-root, yuca, and other




LIFE  IN   ST. DO l I NGO.    ~275
bulbous roots," was in every respect a failure and a
deceit, nor was it alone in this that we were disappointed.
A honey-press that came out with it for Don Julio,
was so badly made that it broke the first day it
was used, and was hopelessly past all service in a
fortnight.
Happily for us, we were ignorant of the worst disappointments in store for us when we all met that
morning at the Palenque landing, to welcome the first
machines of their class ever seen in that district.
Reports had crept abroad that Don Julio and I had
ord-ered from the North some mdquinas of extraordinary power for grating yuca, and the whole population was on the qui vive, for that is a subject of
universal interest here.
Yuca, grated very fine and thrown into water, settles at the bottom in a delicate flour which the natives bake into the thin cakes, called cassava, of which
I have already spoken. This is the common bread of
the country, and at present the grating is always
done by hand; a slow, hard, unsatisfactory process




276    LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
for the women, on whom the labor chiefly falls. The
plough, the weeder, the scythe, and the stump-extractor had created grand sensations, but the mdquina that was "to do in one day the work of twenty
women for a week," would eclipse all its predecessors, and there was a general voice of supplication
from both sexes to see it set in operation at the earliest moment.
It was transported at once to Don Julio's place,
with all its belongings, and set up in the room previ-,
ously prepared for it. WVe had the intention of practising it a day or two before the public were admitted; but it was impossible to exclude a real mob of
the curious "personal friends" of Don Julio. They
would press into the room with troublesome proffers
of help, or stand about in everybody's way while
we were getting it in gear.
The first handful of yuca that was thrown into the
hopper came out in coarse, half-ground "chunks,"
good for nothing but to send to the pigs. I set the
mill to its finest capacity, but it turned out nothing
that answered the splendid promises of the agricul



LIFE    IN  ST. DOMIN G O.    277
tural house on whose recommendation and guarantee
it had been bought. We tried young arrow-root,
hoping that the tender bulbs would yield us a more
encouraging show, but all in vain. We tried all
things in all ways, over and over again, until we were
forced to give up the mill as a false pretence.  I
wasted an anxious, laborious week on it, in the vain
hope that in some shape it could be made serviceable,
but there was no good in it.
The poor neighbors felt the disappointment keenly, for they knew it was bought more for their use
and instruction than for Don Julio's profit. He felt
the annoyance of such a public failure far more than
the loss of the money, and I felt it most deeply of all,
perhaps, because it was ordered at my urgent recominendation, and I had rashly advised him to send for
it on the statement of an agent of the house that this
mill is like those used in the manufacture of the Bermuda arrow-root, which is simply a deliberate falsehood.
While I was at work at the mill, Juanico had to
manage the homestead as best he could, but the




278     LIFE  IN   ST. DoMINGo.
faithful fellow went on diligently, and when I returned home late on Saturday night, sufficiently tired and
disheartened, his warm welcome and pleasant account
of home progress restored me to myself. Yet it required the lapse of one day of profound rest-the
blessed, care-forgetting Sabbath, to wear off my mortification and bring me in trim for my homestead
duties, and enable me to return with a cheerful
spirit to my crops.
The November returns are not immense, but there
are two hundred dollars for my corn from the New
Field, with the likelihood of as much more in December from my other crops. I have to pay something for extra labor, but not much of it out of these
field-crops. My garden beans, melons, onions, and
other stuff, continue to return me nearly enough to
meet my current expenses.
I had given Juanico, at his own request, the entire
charge of a frightfully large garlic-bed, and he has
tended it with such assiduity, that I have resolved to
make over to him, for the purchase of a Christmas
suit, that great pile of it which he is braiding into




LIFE  I N  ST. D OmlINGO.    279
ristas, while I am writing. He is seated at the end
of the garden walk, on guard over a grand heap of
vegetables, the produce of our joint labors, and he
eyes them from time to time with a loving glance
while waiting for Captain Ramirez to call for them.
He breaks into a whistle now and then as he braids
his garlic tops, but always very softly, for fear of disturbing my occupation at the table, drawn outside
the cottage door.
We have just set out most of our seedling plants,
and my Winter Garden is stocked with young vegetables to begin the coming year. The rainy season
is drawing to a close, and our work for this year is
nearly done. To-morrow is Sunday, and the day
after begins the holiday month of December, and I
propose to commence it auspiciously by surprising
Juanico with the wherewith for his Christmas outfit.
Last night Manuel, the carpenter, called for the
money for making the doors and shutters of my cottage. I lived without them some months, but when
I was so far prospered that I had means to spare,
after buying a stout mule and a pair of young cows,




280     L IFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
I engaged him to finish off my house. It was completed ten days ago, but since then he has made me
a lounge and wardrobe of mahogany from my own
ground, and now our simple home is ready for the
dear friends for whose sake, not less than my own, I
have been struggling to win a settled abiding-place.




IIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.   281
CHAPTER XIII.
DECEMBER.
The ripening corn.-Hoe-husbandry.-Unbroken succession of
crops.-Plans for the future.-Affectionate fidelity of Juanico.Attempt to  finish my cottage.-Dishonest mason.-Unlooked for disappointment. —W~hat I resolve to do.-Juanico's
proposition.-Felix comes to my relief. —The lime-burner.Cottage finished.-Delfino appears suddenly.-What he insists
on. —Preparations for a Christmas-tree.-Everybody to be invited.-Site selected.-The company assemble.-We celebrate
Christmas joyously.
OCTOBER, November, and December are much the
same thing in the records of a small Dominican
homestead. The corn ripens in one or the other
of these months, according as it is planted in July,
August, or September.
I have but little to harvest this month, and not a
great deal to plant. The ground assigned to my
cocoa-nut grove was intended for a planting of polebeans, and the original plan was in some degree car



282     LIFE  IN  ST. D oMING O.
ried out immediately on my return from Delfino's
sugar plantation on the first of November. Between
the lines of young cocoas, the ground is covered
with long rows of bean-vines, whose fruit is destined
for the Santo Domingo market, through the dry
months of January, February, and March. The October and November plantings yield less foliage and
come more slowly to maturity than` those made in
the pushing vigor of the three summer months;
but with deep ploughing and one careful cleansing
with the donkey-cultivator in the first weeks after
they are above ground, corn, beans, and so forth, will
return fair crops, and they have the advantage of
coming into market in the season of no rains and
high prices.
In this particular, the system of plough-culture
produces a fabulous profit, while the shallow native
hoe-husbandry returns nothing but a loss. Hoehusbandry does not go deep enough to carry the tender, thirsting rootlets down to a moist bed, and the
plant dries up and dies out in the long succession of
sunny, rainless days. The plough and cultivator




LIFE  IN   ST. DOMINGO.              2 Ssupply this vital necessity of moisture to the growing
crop.  They loosen the earth so as to enable it to
drink in the heavy dews, and permit the searching
rootlets to penetrate to the cool dampness of the subsoil, while the uprising of a gentle vapor, that is constantly disposed to ascend firom a considerable depth,
refireshes as with a bath the spreading fibres that are
exploring the earth for this watery aliment.
While the hard, untilled, and consequently sunscorched native fields around Palenque are being
given up for the season, as too late for successful
planting this fall, my ploughed land is covered, this
last week of December, with crops of corn ripening
for sale next month, and with patches of beans in
every stage, from flowering to ripeness, with a promise of a continuous supply for the next two months.
I have aimed at a succession of crops, and, including garden vegetables, I have not failed in having
something to sell from May to December.
With me it was an urgent necessity to obtain the
quickest and closest series of vegetables and breadstuffs which this genial climate will produce; but on




v84     LIFE  IN  ST. D OMINGO.
reviewing the year's work, month by month, I
cannot but think that every planter, large or small,
will find it more profitable, as well as more comfortable
and independent, to give a wider range to his usual
planting list, and devote somewhat more attention to
raising within his own limits, all that is required
for the consumption of his own homestead.
Cofl'ee, sugar, rice, and cotton are precious staples,
and make such brilliant returns that they dazzle the
great proprietors, and wholly divert their attention
from the sure and steady, though unpretending,
profits of those crops that form the daily food of
all classes.
MIen must eat of many things besides sugar, coffee,
and rice, and they must pay a fair price for them. The
simple and inevitable result of this fact, as I have
fully realized, is, that whoever chooses to raise food
in this country may rely on a good demand and
remunerative prices. The rich planters will not
compete with him, because their thoughts and means
are concentrated on the great staples for export; and
the others cannot, for the small native farms are




LIFE  IN  ST. D OMINGO.             285
tilled under such a wretched, profitless system, and
their owners are so trained to it, that they would
have to be born again and live a new life before
they could be taught to understand the labor-saving
appliances of good husbandry.
In this climate of incessant production, every
month ought to be made to bring with it some
gainful harvest of fruit, vegetable, or breadstuff
From April to November the farmer can go on with
a steady succession of plantings, and after the first
year it will be his own fault if he does not have an
equally steady succession of harvestings. This has
been my experience. As I cleared the ground of
the crops put in it during the early rains in April and
May, I planted afresh for new returns in the dry
months of the coming year.
With the later rains of October and November
I have covered nearly every foot of my winter
garden with ocra, onions, tomatoes, sugar-peas,
radishes-in a word, with the round list of vegetables
with which I started my seedling bed in January
last. These are now thrifty, well-advanced plants,




286     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
many in flower, and some beginning to bear, so that
the coming January will be, as I may reasonably
trust, a harvest month. My patient labor has been
paid by the rapid advance of all my vegetables under
the spring showers, and their readiness for early
sale when the market was at its best. Now, with the
advantage of the fall rains to give it a strong start,
my winter garden stands a fair chance to give me
three-fold profits with the same amount of labor.
My New Field will probably give me a cheering
account of sweet potatoes in February and March,
of yuca in April and AMay; and then I shall ask no
more of it until I attend to my yautilia in August
and September, unless, indeed, I plant early corn in
the cocoa-nut grove.  It is now ready for January, to gather in weekly supplies of lima-beans
for Captain Ramirez. Should I plant that space in
corn with the first rains next Spring, as Don Julio
advises, it ought to supply the housewives of Santo
Domingo City with young corn for arapa in June
and July, and thus keep up a regular course of
crops and employment from January to September.




LIFE  IN  ST. DoMIN GO.    287
After these will present themselves, one after the
other, in October, November, and December, the
spring and summer planted crops, and so complete
the circle of monthly harvests for the entire year.
I believe I can rely on Juanico and the winter garden for the support of the house, including his own
wages and those oC one or two men a part of the
time.
Juanico himself is henceforth to be counted a fixture of the homestead. In squaring our accounts, he
supplicated me not to speak of formal wages, but to
keep him always by me, and to take care of him as
long as he lives. He is the most patiently industrious Dominican I have yet seen, and by no means
wanting in the capacity to learn and appreciate the
use of improved implements of agriculture.  lis
nature is single-minded, docile, and faithfully affectionate, and he is prized by me rather as an humble
friend than a paid servant. This, however, does not
change my resolution to give him the usual Dominican
wages; three dollars a week to men who live in the
house. Beyond that, I consider from time to time




288     LIFE  IN  ST. DoMI N G O.
his little extra personal wants, and take care of them
as liberally as my means will admit, if only to manifest my sense of the value of his services.
In the first half of December we set ourselves
zealously at the work of plastering and whitewashing
our palenca walls. There was some trouble about
the lime, as well as with the native mason who had
contracted to supply it and do the plastering. After
the prices were arranged, and the day fixed for beginning, he changed his mind, and refused to undertake the job unless I would promise to add another five
dollars to the sum first agreed on, twenty dollars,
and advance him ten dollars "to pay a debt that
troubled" him. Here was a dilemma. Twenty dollars
was the -full value of the work, and I dislike to yield
to unjust and arbitrary demands; but, on the other
hand, I was exceedingly anxious to have the house
finished, and all the rubbish cleared up before Christmas, for Delfino had written to say that he would be
with us on Christmas Eve, and he particularly claimed
"a week of free and perfect holiday, at the close of
my first year's trial of life in Santo Domingo."




L I E  IN  ST. DOM I N GO.    289
The mason called in person to inform me of his
rise in price, and to take home with him the ten dollars advance, for it did not occur to him that I had
any choice in the matter. I had stipulated so strongly
to have the work completed at least ten days before
Christmas, that he evidently supposed I would subnit to any exaction rather than be disappointed. He
was the only mason within five miles, and the only
lime-burner was his own cousin, and, for aught I
knew, this cousin might refuse to sell me the lime I
needed. The exceeding desire I felt to have my
cottage plastered and regulated before the close of
the year, caused me to waver a moment. As I looked
up with the intention of offering to " split the difference," I caught such a leer of triumph in the fellow's
eye, that I instantly resolved to have nothing more
to do with him.
"As you find the bargain we made so much to
your disadvantage, I will let the house stand as it
is for the present," I said, composedly. "The weather
is now settled, and I can do very well in it for the
four months of the dry season, since it has answered
13




290     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
perfectly through all our rains. Consider our engagements, therefore, absolutely at an end."
The man was taken aback; I saw that at a glance,
and this quite reconciled me to my own disappointment.
" But about the lime, Sefior? That must be taken,
for it is engaged," he observed, after a few minutes
of awkward silence. "I bespoke it on my own responsibility for this particular work. Two cargoes of
lime are to be delivered here this very day, at a dollar a barrel, and my cousin expects the money for it
froin your hand." He paused and looked at me for
an answer, but I did not speak. I was reflecting on
the " situation."
" You consented to that and to the price," continned he, in an insolent tone.
" Certainly I did, but it was a part of my arrangement with you," I answered; my own temper calming in proportion as his rose. " You do not choose to
abide by the rest of the bargain, and of course I shall
not take the lime."
There was another pause, which the mason at length




LIFE  IN  ST. DO M IN G O.    291
broke by proposing to abate two dollars from his
price, if I would advance the ten dollars and receive
and pay for the lime when it came.
"The exact bargain, or nothing. No advance, and
half a dollar deducted for every day the work is delayed beyond the time named for its completion," I
answered, decidedly.
"No money until all the work is done?" interrogated the man, in a tone of surprise, as if that was a
new condition, though it had been made a leading
stipulation, because I had been told that there is no
other way of getting these people to keep on witn
their work until it is completed.
"No payment for my work until it is every bit
finished?" repeated the man, in an injured, querulous
tone.
" No."
"Then, I must warn the Seloor that no Dominican
can be found who will work for him. Acdios!"
Away he went, in a state of high fermentation at
the general upsetting of his plans.
I too had my own feeling of discomfort at this mis



292     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
understanding. It is the first I have had in this
country, and I would gladly hope it may be the last,
but I could not consent to yield to these petty extortions; I would sooner let the cottage wait a year.
But it did not have to wait a day. When I rejoined Juanico at our work on the Winter Garden, I
dropped a word or two of regret that the cottage
should remain unplastered for months to come, and
not be put in the condition to receive Don Delfino
which we had anticipated.
"If you wish the work done, Senor, I will go over
to Nizao and capture another mason directly," said
Juanico, quietly, without raising his eyes from his tomato gathering, or relaxing the speed of his busy
hands.
"Do you really think you can find a mason at
Nizao, Juanico?"
"I have no doubt of it, Seiior; but if I fail there,
I will step over to Bani (the step to Bani is only fourteen miles) and bring you Felix," replied Juanico,
this time looking up eagerly and speaking with animation.




LIFE  IN  ST. DO - INGO.           2)93
"Is Felix a mason, then?"
"Si Sefior. His father was the best mason in this
part of the country, and Felix worked with him until he died, three or four years ago. After that, Felix left his trade because he liked farming better.
But he will come to you flying when he knows you
need his services.7"
"I would be truly glad to have him, and you may
take the mule and ride over to Bani as soon as you
like, Juanico, to propose it to him, and to inquire how
we are to get the necessary lime."
"As to the lime, it has settled itself,"' said Juanico, putting down his tomato basket and starting
towards the New Road. "Somebody is calling at
the gate, and I can see from here two donkeys with
white loads."
Juanico had hit the truth, and he and the limeburner had a long parley, which I was not slow
to conjecture was about the mason's breach of contract. Before they were through with it, Juanico
had wormed out of him that the lime was really sold
for eighty cents, instead of a dollar, the barrel; and




294    LLIi E  IN  ST. DO IN 1   G o.
at this lower price the donkeys were led in to discharge their loads. The other materials were on
hand and in their place, so that the only remaining
difficulty was to learn whether we could secure a mason im time to get through before Christmas.
Juanico rode over to Bani in the evening, and before ten the next morning Felix solved the doubt by
presenting himself with an assistant. In a word,
matters were driven with such energy that every
thing was finished, every sign of mortar and building trash cleared off, outside and in, and the cottage
put in its trimmest order on the 20th, four full days
before Christmas.
While we were in the midst of our labors, the original contractor sent to say that, "not to fail in his
word, and for the pleasure of obliging a neighbor
like me, he would undertake the work on the terms
first proposed; but that he could not limit himself by
a promise to have it done before Christmas."
I returned thanks for his kind intentions, and sent
answer that, as the job was already nearly finished, I
had no occasion for his services.




LIFE  IN  ST. DO 2M I N G O.    295
My white cottage gleams cheerfully through the
green foliage of the over-arching trees, and I am most
happy in its possession.
I slept a week in the old cabin while the plastering
dried, and we were not through a day too soon, for
Delfino-God bless him and his evermore-rode in
on Saturday evening, attended by his man Isidro,
with a mule-load of well-chosen and welcome gifts.
Always the same sunbright and joy-giving spirit is
Delfino.
" Amigo mio, I have come to take full and absolute
possession of you and your house, of your man-servants and your maid-servants, and of all that is within
your gates!" he exclaimed, almost before he reined
up his horse. "Let no one presume to work or be
serious in my presence, while this year lasts. Hear
and obey this edict, all ye who hope to live."
"Your sovereign pleasure, great potentate, shall
be our law! and obedience will be all the easier,
since your presence makes every day a festival
with us."
" I am delighted to find my subjects in such a hap



296     LIFE  IN  ST. D OMINGO.
py mood, and so well housed too," exclaimed Delfino,
looking round the now white walls of my cottage.
"I can scarcely believe this is our blessed old homestead, where we learned to plough and mow, like
real Yankees."
"And where we taught the natives to chop down
trees with Yankee axes, and draw out stumps with
Yankee extractors," I added.
"Yes, mi camigo, yes. Lo, we worked like Yankees, and lived like Spartans, and enjoyed ourselves
like Athenians. Is it not so?"
" I can answer for myself, Delfino, that I have been
happy in my labors, and found my Spartan fare quite
endurable when you were here to partake of it with
me. Anita, I see, has prepared something this evening, and it may be as acceptable after your ride as
we used to find it after our work."
After supper we sat awhile in the soft starlight,
and chatted of the year's doings, and of the result
of twelve months' experience in tropical farming, until Delfino broke the chain of conversation by the abrupt observation:



LIFE  IN   S'. D IIN G 0.    297
"We must have a Christmas-tree for all the people
who have worked with us. Oh, you need not question me with your eyes, as if to ask whether I have
the slightest idea what I am tallking about. We must
hlave a Christmas-tree, I say. Not the artificial indoor affair of your cold northern climate, but a green,
living, fruit-loaded tree, standing out openly in the
pleasant air of our summer land, only it must be
trimmed with garlands and hung with suitable presents for those who have a claim to be remembered
by us."
"What a charming suggestion! I will do my utmost to help carry it out."
" Good. Then we have only to select the place
and think of the entertainment. Not one of those
who have worked with us is to be omitted."
"Right. Every one of them, with their wives and
children, shall be invited. Juan and Anita shall take
care of that."
In the morning, after an out-of-door breakfast,
under the close, green shade of our favorite fruit
grove, we leisurely made our rounds and visited




298     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMI NGO.
the successive plantings and improvements of the
homestead with loving interest.
The Orange Walk is still in its infancy, but my
young grafted trees are growing thriftily amid
a showy range of sun-flowers, planted to define
the line and provide a change of diet, now and
then, for my nice brood of chickens.
The little trees of the mango avenue have cotton
plants between them, but they are hardly beginning
to blossom as yet. This cherished avenue would be
the least striking of my improvements, did not a
low hedge of lilies and other flowering plants,
already rich in bloom, redeem its present insignificance.
From that we passed into the New Field, to see
the cocoa-nut grove (that is to be), and found the
triple line of sprouts in fine order. Many of them
are three feet high, and most of them are at least
two feet above the ground. They each received a
careful hoeing from my own hbalds, about a month after
they were planted, and will require the same attention some time in February or March, and once again




LIFE  IN  ST. D) O  IN G O.          299
during the rainy season, and this is all that is strictly
necessary to insure the wTell-being of these valuable
trees.
The plantain walk has made the most astonishing
progress of all. The great green leaves of those set
out in June now almost meet overhead, and even
those planted in August are four and five feet high.
Delfino says that seven or eight months hence I may
begin to have a regular supply of plantains and
bananas, and from that time forward there will be
every week fresh clusters coming on, in continually
increased abundance.
Early on Monday morning we selected our Christmas-tree, a thrifty guava, encircled by other fruittrees of larger growth and denser shade. It is a little
beyond the spring, just where the sweep of coffee,
wild plum, and  pomegranate trees mingle their
shrubby hedge with the loftier growth of the grand
old fruit grove. There is plenty of soft grass under
foot and cool shade overhead. There is pure water
close at hand, and two limes near by loaded with
golden fruit, to make our cool and wholesome bev



300     LIFE:  IN  ST. Do A INGO.
erage.  Delfino says Nature arranged the site
expressly for the Christmas festivals of a man who
is learning how to live in the primitive content in
which Columbus found the first lords of this lovely
island.
Our preparations were truly Arcadian. The trees
around supplied the fruits; our viands were, to the
last item, home-grown and home-made, and our
beverages-mead, coffee, lemonade, native wines, and
chocolate at the close of the day (after the presents
were distributed) —were produced, without a single
exception, on my own place, or brought from Delfillo's sugar plantation. Yet our forty guests, men,
women, and children, found no lack of wholesome
and palatable variety at our rustic banquet beside the
Christmas-tree.
Never have I enjoyed a day of purer delight than
this which I have passed on my own honestly earned
homestead, entertaining with hospitable care those
who, in direct labor or neighborly kindness, have
served me so well during the twelve months now
concluded. They have done much to aid me in




LI'FE  IN  ST. D)OMINGO.    301
my new life, and I fervently pray that another
year may again gather us all together under the
richly laden boughs of our next Dominican Christmas-tree.




302     LIFE  IN  ST. DOMINGO.
CHAPTER XIV.
BY WAY OF EXPLANATION.
HUNDREDS of the working classes are seeking new
homes in countries where intelligent labor can best
be made to supply the want of capital.
The unhealthiness of certain commercial sites has
created a popular idea, that all tropical countries
are necessarily unfavorable to health.  This is a
great mistake; not only are many of the high and
well-drained table-lands of the tropics eminently
healthy, but they are beyond dispute those regions
in which men who know how to work with the best
implements of agriculture, and who have the will to
use them, are most certain to achieve an early independence.
In these favored regions of perpetual production, a
man works only for his own profit and the embellishment of his home; while, in the land of long frosts,




LIF E  IN  ST. DOMINGO.    303
half of his labors are swallowed up in the service of
that unrelenting, unproducing despot —Winter.
It becomes thus far a question of serious consideration, to a mechanic or farmer of limited means, where
and how he may best secure a safe, pleasant, and
independent homestead, in a land where snow and
ice do not reign half the year, to devour most of the
earnings of the summer.
I have endeavored to answer this question, by
keeping from month to month an accurate diary of
what I myself accomplished during one year in Santo
Domingo, almost without any other capital than the
labor of my own hands.
This diary has been written from time to time as
my work went on. I have carefully given to each
season of the year its own peculiar duties, together
with the results of my actual experience. So far as
it goes, I can safely declare it may be relied on by
the emigrant to any part of tropical America, although
the practical observations were made on the south
coast of Spanish Hayti. This magnificent island-the
favorite of Columbus-is, as the reader is aware,




304     LIFE  IN  ST. DORIINGo.
next adjoining Cuba, and, of all the West India
group, nearest approaching that island in size, climate, and varied extent of its products. It is now
under the Spanish rule, and possesses guarantees of
personal liberty, to subjects and aliens, white and
black, that cannot be questioned or set aside by any
future rulers under the Spanish Crown, as these
guarantees form part of the conditions of its annexation.
In conclusion, I may be permitted to say that, as a
poor man, I decided to seek a home in a tropical
climate, for three reasons:
1. In a climate of perpetual summer my labor
would procure me a much larger variety, and a more
continued succession of fruits, vegetables, and general
comforts, than the same amount of work would command in a cold climate.
2. I knew I could create the necessary buildings
for shelter, as well as provide needful clothing for my
family the year round, with much smaller means in a
climate without winter.
3. I could continue my work progressively the




L I FE  IN  Sr. D M I N  O.    305
whole year, without being brought to a stand still,
for from one-third to one-half of the circle of twelve
months, by the frost-locked earth. Thus, I could
allow myself a remission from out-door work, at least
one-third of the laboring hours of every day. I
knew I could allow myself three hours of the noonday, at least, for relaxation, for reading, or lighter
employments in the cool house-shade, and yet at the
end of the year, or a series of years, I should have
accomplished as much in cultivating and improving
my homestead, as I could have done at the North by
working hard all the time. One-third of a farmer's
time in the North is consumed in providing extra
food and shelter for man and beast during the hard,
unproducing winter.
Every month I have passed within the tropics has
confirmed and deepened my certain knowledge of the
superior advantages of a summer climate, for a working farmer of narrow means, especially if he labors
systematically and with intelligence.
For myself I can truly say, although my life has
been in a degree solitary, that the past year has been




306     LIFE  IN  ST. Do.M INGo.
the happiest of my existence. In a few weeks I
hope to welcome my dear brother and his two sons.
This will afford me the companionship and society
of my own race and kindred, the want of which is
positively the only drawback I have experienced
during my residence in this beautiful island.
THE END.