WEST INDIAN YMNS 
 
 BY 
 
 x. mm: 
 
 NEW EDITION, REVISED AND ENLARGED. 
 
 Demerara : 
 J. THOMSON, "Argosy" Press. 
 
 London : 
 E. A. PETHERICK & CO., 38, Paternoster Row. 
 
 1090. 
 [All rights reserved.] 
 
95.S- 
 
 TO 
 
 IiJZZJK 
 
PRESS NOTICES. 
 
 Reprints from Colonial papers are not as a rule dis- 
 tinguished by originality either in matter or manner. On 
 the contrary if they have any quality which is peculiarly 
 their own, it is an exceptional turn for making the new 
 book old and the interesting dull. West Indian Yarns 
 by X. Beke, (Demerara, James Thomson,) is to a con- 
 siderable extent an exception. X. Beke has not written 
 a possession for ever, nor even a possession for many 
 years, but his yarns are tolerably smart reading, and may 
 be recommended to whomever has them at hand in an 
 idle hour. They are of very various degrees of merit, 
 and one or two short sentimental stories among them are 
 naught. For the most part they are sketches of negro 
 and Creole habits. To judge from X. Beke, all the West 
 Indies which is not negro, is Scotch, and if he gives the 
 talk of the former as he gives that of the latter, it must be 
 very good indeed. There is a long-winded genealogical 
 Scotchman who is excellent. So is another Scot who 
 offered to work without pay on the ground that " on a 
 big estate like o this there's plenty of orra things aboot, 
 and I'd be aye picking up something till ye found it con- 
 venient to allot me a sailary." Strange to say the planter 
 
 301744 
 
would have nothing to do with this model of honesty. 
 X. Beke has also some fairly amusing stories of negro 
 dignity. — Saturday Review. 
 
 The Argosy press of Georgetown, Demerara, is now 
 setting up a second edition of ■ West Indian Yarns/ by 
 Mr. G. H. Hawtayne, a Government official in that colony. 
 In these ' Yarns,' of which the first edition has become 
 exhausted, the writer describes with much knowledge and 
 humour a state of things that is fast passing away in the 
 social life of some of the island colonies. As photographs 
 in black and white of society a generation ago, Mr. Haw- 
 tayne's amusing sketches will preserve for present and 
 future dwellers in those colonies many shades of existence 
 which would otherwise disappear. Persons who intend 
 avoiding the winter by taking a trip to the West Indies 
 will find much to amuse them in the 'Yarns.' — New 
 Fork Nation, 
 
Under the Battery 
 
 in i or 
 
 uo, 
 
 r 
 
 -age. 
 
 I 
 
 Names 
 
 . . 
 
 • .• 
 
 • • 
 
 4 
 
 Smiff the Overseer 
 
 . , 
 
 
 . . 
 
 8 
 
 A Loving Brother 
 
 
 .. 
 
 
 ii 
 
 A Lesson . . 
 
 
 
 . • 
 
 12 
 
 Very Official 
 
 
 .. 
 
 .. 
 
 14 
 
 " My Suspeeshuns !" 
 
 
 .. 
 
 .. 
 
 15 
 
 "The General" 
 
 
 
 
 17 
 
 A Bailee 
 
 
 • • 
 
 
 18 
 
 Caught 
 
 
 
 .. 
 
 19 
 
 A New Book 
 
 
 . , 
 
 • • 
 
 20 
 
 A Humane employer 
 
 
 
 
 20 
 
 A Sick-Bed Friend 
 
 • • 
 
 
 
 22 
 
 Very Sad ! 
 
 
 
 
 2 5 
 
 Cheap Glass Ware 
 
 
 
 
 26 
 
 "Botts!" 
 
 
 
 
 30 
 
 A Careless Postman 
 
 
 
 . . 
 
 34 
 
 Spotting Her ! . . 
 
 • • 
 
 
 
 36 
 
 A New Application of an Old Text. . 
 
 
 36 
 
 An Unknown Title 
 
 
 
 
 37 
 
 A Good Excuse 
 
 . . 
 
 . • 
 
 
 38 
 
 Nothing Like Principle 
 
 • • 
 
 
 
 39 
 
 The Good Old Days ! 
 
 
 
 • • 
 
 42 
 
 Susceptible- Hens 
 
 
 
 
 43 
 
 Obeah 
 
 . . 
 
 . . 
 
 
 44 
 
 Very Improper ! 
 
 . . 
 
 
 
 49 
 
 Creole Whalers . . 
 
 . . 
 
 
 
 50 
 
 Vera Sateerical . . 
 
 . . 
 
 . • 
 
 . • 
 
 51 
 
 A Spoilt Inquest 
 
 
 • • ' 
 
 .. 
 
 56 
 
Contents. 
 
 Page. 
 
 No Tailor 
 
 Pay No Objeft 
 
 Liquid Measure 
 
 " Grass and Rum" 
 
 Good-bye Popkins 
 
 D. I. O. 
 
 Old Barataria 
 
 Not such a Fool after all . . 
 
 Faithful Negroes 
 
 Pastoral Attentions 
 
 A Romance of Barataria . . 
 
 A Run-away 
 
 A Zoological Specimen . . 
 
 An Important Crisis 
 
 Colle&ions 
 
 Shakespere in the Tropics 
 
 Captain Heeps, U.S.N. 
 
 Snakes 
 
 A Return Home 
 
 A Wide Awake Patriot 
 
 An Ele&ion 
 
 An Official Investigation . . 
 
 A Doctor's Yarn 
 
 A Jury 
 
 Coincidences — Strange but True 
 
 The Commander-in-Chief Defied 
 
 They Stuck to the Ship . . 
 
 My First " Birthday Ball" 
 
 Mutual Confidence 
 
 Treasure Trove and not Trove 
 
 Vox Populi 
 
 An Official Dilemma 
 
 Hard Skull 
 
Contents. 
 
 Page. 
 
 A Fishy Customer 
 
 261 
 
 A Strange Ride 
 
 266 
 
 Too Grammatical 
 
 .. 278 
 
 Reverend Bernard Bumpshus 
 
 279 
 
 An Official Ducal Firm 
 
 282 
 
 A Lost Love 
 
 283 
 
 The Major-General's Yarn 
 
 301 
 
WE^T INDIAN YflRNft 
 
 UNDER THE BATTERY. 
 
 |Y introduction to the West Indies was accom- 
 panied by what in its way was a u baptism of 
 fire'' as the Emperor Louis Napoleon would 
 have called it. 
 
 It was many years ago when the Royal Mail Com- 
 pany had not attained the punctuality which is now so 
 remarkable, and I took passage on a " first trip" steamer. 
 We had bad weather moreover ; and this with heated bear- 
 ings delayed us, so that on our arrival at St. Thomas we 
 found the inter-colonial boat had gone. Of course tha 
 Company's agent had a bad time of it, but ultimately the 
 ocean steamer was despatched one way. and a vessel 
 chartered to take the rest of us on our route. 
 
 This boat, as it turned out, was of Yankee origin, 
 called, if I recollect rightly, the Ben Franklin. Her 
 Captain and crew were a very unsatisfactory lot and her 
 fittings, to say the least, peculiar. She was to all 
 appearance a passenger steamer, but the ports were large 
 
2 /•"*. i :•" : .*•• : •..* WsST: F^piAtf Yarns. 
 
 and capable of further enlargement, and the cabins, &c, 
 all of a very temporary and makeshift character. 
 However anything was better than to stay in St. Thomas, 
 and we all hastened hurriedly on board. A portion of the 
 provisions brought in the ocean boat was hustled on to 
 the Franklin s deck, poultry, pigs, ice, vegetables, meat, 
 &c, &c, all in admired confusion, and after sun-down 
 we started. Just as we got opposite a small fort at the 
 entrance of the harbour, bang ! went a gun. followed 
 by another. What could it mean ? A third followed, and 
 then the Captain was requested to stop, but he wouldn't, 
 " he'd let her rip," but a fourth shot, with a thud which 
 shook the vessel, appeared an unanswerable argument, and 
 we stopped. A lady rushed from below screaming that 
 all in the cabin " was smashed save the baby and a cake 
 of soap," and matters did indeed look serious. A boat 
 was lowered and a Bishop and a Colonial Governor, with 
 one or two others, put off to parley with the gunners of 
 the fort. I, who had to duck when one of the balls 
 whizzed over my head, thought I might as well see the 
 fun. In the dark we slowly neared the fort and were 
 challenged. Some sort of reply was given, and then we 
 all began to clamber over the wet stones towards the 
 battery. The Bishop, a fine specimen of the muscular 
 christian, rolled up his sleeves and prepared to do battle, 
 and the Governor, a tall wiry man, seemed able to give a 
 good account of any half dozen of the puny Danes ; and 
 I think it was the Governor's Secretary who kept me 
 company, discreetly moving up as supports to our cham- 
 pions. There was a parley and a reference to the Danish 
 Governor, then a long pull back under arrest to the town, 
 
Under the Battery. 
 
 and a tiresome tramp through the town to the Consul's house. 
 We were all in great terror of the myriads of dogs that yelped 
 and barked at every £tep we took. The Consul received 
 us in his dining room, in his " robe de nuit," and 
 promised all should be enquired into and redressed. We 
 did a little of the " Civis Romanus Sum" business which 
 was then in fashion, and on our return were received on 
 board the Franklin by our grateful fellow-passengers. It 
 turned out that the despatch had been sent out to St. 
 Thomas to receive on board her armament sent before 
 by a sailing vessel ostensibly laden with coal ; she was 
 then to take part in a liberating expedition to Venezuela, 
 or some other of those South American republics which 
 are ever in a ferment; but, this being discovered, the 
 Franklin was not allowed to leave the harbour. The 
 gunners at the fort had orders to sink her if she attempted 
 to go out. These orders, through some blunder, had not 
 been countermanded, and we all might have been sent 
 to the bottom. 
 
 There was a Lieutenant of Artillery on board, now, I 
 dare say, a Major General, from whose attention and 
 professional knowledge a very pretty and very frightened 
 young lady derived much comfort in this trying time ; 
 and a Barbadian matron, who was irritating from the way 
 in which she demanded why all sorts of things, which she 
 declared would have been done had we been in Barbados, 
 had not been at least attempted. At daybreak the two 
 shot holes we had received were caulked, and steam 
 being got up, we proceeded and at length reached 
 Barbados. 
 
West Indian Yarns. 
 
 NAMES. 
 
 HE predilection which negroes have for grand 
 names, alluded to by Marryatt in one of his 
 novels, is well known. In some of the West 
 India Islands every darkie has a play-name or name for 
 common or every day use, which is as a rule, short and 
 so to speak, handy. Their baptismal names, on the con- 
 trary, are lengthy and romantic, being borrowed from the 
 pages of " Standard novels" or from the heroes and 
 heroines of " penny dreadfuls." In the olden days, 
 Shakespeare was greatly resorted to as a sponsor, and 
 sable Hamlets, Othellos, Romeos, and Macbeths abound 
 among the older negroes. Often in the desire for a 
 polysyllabic name its uncomplimentary or inappropriate 
 character is overlooked, and hence some more or less 
 worthy people are found whose names bear the prefixes 
 of Mendacious, Abnormal, Abdominal, Ananias, &c. 
 One man I know, christened Hobbledehoy, tries to con- 
 ceal the unfortunate name by a strong accent on the 
 second syllable. I have even known a Camomile Brown. 
 
 " Massa," s; id a respectable dark gentleman to a Re- 
 gistrar of Births, &c, " Massa, me make you for know 
 dat for me wife confine Tuesday gone, and she gie me 
 twin, both of dem boys, and me ax you be so kind as 
 gie me name for dem." 
 
 44 Well," said the Registrar, "let us sec, I think you had 
 better cail one ' Waverley' and the other 'Guy Man- 
 nering.'' 
 
 " Tank you, me massa, dem name fustrate, but me beg 
 
Names. 5 
 
 you write dem on a 'crip of paper, else me no member 
 dem." The Registrar did so and Mr. Pompey went 
 away rejoicing. Some weeks after, the following con- 
 versation was overheard between Pompey and a friend : — 
 
 " Well buddie (brother) and how does dem two picknie 
 get on ?" 
 
 " Fustrate ! hearty," replied Pompey. 
 
 " Dey is christened yet ?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes, dey baptize last Sunday at chapel." 
 
 " And what name you gie dem ?" 
 
 11 Well, me friend, for tell de troot, me scarce able for 
 get my tongue round de words, but de name well 
 handsome. Ah ! dey call um ■ Waberley' and ' Guy 
 Maddering,' someting so." 
 
 " Eh ! me f adder !"' said Pompey 's friend, " where ebber 
 you get dem name ?' 
 
 " Registrar gie um, and write um down for no make 
 mistake.'' 
 
 " And parson take um ?" 
 
 " Yes, me friend. Fust he say he nebber hear Guy 
 Maddering before, but he know Waberly been one 
 pusson as write plenty good book, so he speck praps 
 dey been brudders, and so he receibe de name for me 
 picknies and dem." The 'parson' no doubt was one 
 of the locus preacher tribe whose reading did not ex- 
 tend to Scott, 
 
 Two black girls, labourers on a friend's estate in the 
 island of St. Maria, returning from work, met on the road. 
 They had but a scanty amount of clothes, but each had a 
 baby in her arms. There was some quarrel between them 
 and a wordy combat ensued. At its close one damsel, 
 
West Indian Yarns. 
 
 turning away, said, " Well I don't want no more discoorse 
 wid you " Miss Terasa." 
 
 " Me make you for know, marm," retorted the other 
 girl, " that for me name no Terasa, but Tereesa." 
 
 " Well, me dear," was the reply, " Terasa else Tereesa 
 both de same, for me name a better name than for your 
 own, for me name Diana de Goddess of Chaste ;" and 
 Diana strutted off with a swing of her tattered skirt and 
 toss of the head that would have become a duchess. 
 
 A negro often takes as his " bragging" or " play" 
 name that of his master, and in their social gatherings 
 these names alone are used, while the gait and manner, 
 or any other peculiarities of their employers, are also 
 imitated. 
 
 Servants and labourers are addicted to bestowing on 
 their offspring the names of their masters and mistresses, 
 and often when, as is the custom in some of the colonies, 
 a son takes as his surname the christian name of his 
 father, the result is embarrassing. For instance, if Mr. 
 Brown Robinson's groom, Jack Caesar, calls his child 
 " Robinson Caesar," the latter, when he has a son, will 
 probably christen him as " Brown," and the child is 
 not known as " Brown Caesar," but as "Brown Robinson," 
 so that proper minded persons are apt, on finding the 
 aristocratic name to be borne by a small coloured boy, to 
 shake their heads and make edifying reflections on the 
 morality of the original Robinson. 
 
 This mark of respect or of admiration for the name, 
 and sometimes the rank of a superior, was curiously 
 exemplified some years ago in, as I think, Jamaica, 
 where the wife of a black military labourer marched up to 
 
Names. 
 
 the font with her infant, and, in the presence of a scanda- 
 lized congregation, gave its intended name as " George 
 Frederick Augustus Snodgrass Adjutant." 
 
 Coolie Immigrants when converted and baptized often 
 assume as their new names those of the persons — 
 generally the owners or managers of estates or their wives 
 or relatives — who stand as sponsors on the occasion. 
 
 Two neighbours, a proprietor and a middle aged 
 maiden lady, had a desperate quarrel over a disputed 
 right of way. They had not gone to law, but from being 
 excellent friends they had become bitter foes, and the 
 small society of the parish was deeply interested in each 
 phase of the dispute. Mr. P. employed on his estate 
 several coolies ; and two of them, a driver or superin- 
 tendent, Sahye, and his wife Jebuseeah, having become 
 converted to Christianity, were about to be baptized. 
 Sahye applied to his employer to be his sponsor, and 
 Jebuseeah, who was a. protegee of Miss W., obtained per- 
 mission to take her name. The unhappy feud between 
 the sponsors prevented the double ceremony taking place 
 on the same day, as nothing would induce the one to 
 meet the other under any circumstances ; and so the 
 Coolies were baptized on different days. 
 
 Of course a marriage., according to the rites of the 
 Church, was to follow; and one fine Sunday, when the 
 quarrel between Mr. P. and Miss W. was at its climax, 
 the congregation in the church were astounded at hearing 
 the banns of marriage published between Philip James 
 P., widower, and Arabella W., spinster. The gentleman 
 and lady rose simultaneously as if to forbid the banns, 
 the greatest excitement prevailed, when their eyes met, and 
 
8 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 it flashed across their minds that the banns were those of 
 their Coolie protegees, a smile lit up the face of each, and 
 the incident was the means of a mutual explanation, and 
 afforded an opportunity for a happy adjustment of the 
 disputed right of way. 
 
 A young official, who was in some way connected with 
 affairs matrimonial and had to issue licenses or certifi- 
 cates, was once applied to by an aged pair for the 
 required paper. 
 
 " Your intended wife's name I see is Raffle/' he observed 
 to the ancient bridegroom. 
 
 " Yes sah ! Meloina Raffle." 
 
 " Aha !" observed the clerk, " old man going to take a 
 chance in a Raffle ; expect a prize, eh !" 
 
 M I don't know, me massa. I hab she dear love, and 
 dat is all de prize I want" was the touching reply. 
 
 SMIFF THE OVERSEER. 
 
 EVER," once said a friend, " call a negro 
 drunk," and he gave his reasons as 
 follows : — One night just as my wife and I 
 were preparing to go to bed, I heard a sound as of some 
 animal in my garden, and looking out saw to my disgust, 
 a black man on a mule careering all over the flower beds 
 and making sad havoc with my pet roses. I was out in a 
 minute regardless of having no hat on and being thinly 
 clad for so wet an evening. 
 
 " Beg pardon, Sah," said my visitor coming to a halt 
 and then backing into an allamanda bush, " Beg pardon, 
 
Smiff the Overseer. 
 
 but Massa Smiff de obersheer, he dead Sah ! he fall 
 down in de gutter" (gutter was the term for a lovely 
 fern-clad ravine just below my house). 
 
 Now " Massa Smiff, de obersheer/' was a dreadful 
 creature who was always in scrapes, and with whom I 
 had been at loggerheads for a long while ; however one 
 could not leave him in the u gutter." My horror at the 
 accident made me forget my injured plants, and so call- 
 ing out a small Portuguese boy and bidding him bring a 
 lantern, and followed by two curiosity- driven servant 
 girls, on I went. It was, as I said, a rainy night, and 
 the ground was slippery in the extreme, and as I slid and 
 stumbled I made several, I dare say, rough remarks on 
 44 Mr. Smiff." 44 Here he mule, Sah !" suddenly said our 
 guide, as we came up to the animal which was nibbling 
 away at the grass by the road-side. 
 
 44 And here be Massa Smiff, Sah !" And there was Mr. 
 Smith, sure enough. He had evidently fallen over the 
 brink of the road, his weight had made a regular shoot 
 down the side of the ravine for some thirty feet or more, 
 and he lay on his back, with his feet a long way above 
 his head, which rested against the spiny trunk of a gru 
 gru palm that had arrested his turther descent. He 
 seemed unconscious ; his eyes were open, and reflected 
 the light of the lantern in a most startling way. 
 
 4> Mr Smith !" I called out. No reply. " Go down 
 to him," said I — " Mr. '* 
 
 44 My name, Sah, is Herod, Hamlet Herod, Sah.' ; 
 
 44 Well, help up Mr. Smith. Here, Antonio ! Give a 
 hand." 
 
 Mr. Herod and Antonio set about the task, and, after a 
 
 8 
 
io West Indian Yarns. 
 
 great deal of labour, Mr. Smith was dragged up like a log 
 to the road side, When he suddenly shewed signs of life 
 by biting Antonio in the arm, and as Antonio let him go 
 with a yell, down he slid till he was brought up with a 
 bang by the gru gru palm, and lay staring as before. 
 
 1 was wet thiough, and the wind blew in terrible gusts 
 down the valley. The strange light in Mr. Smith's eyes, 
 the grotesque shadows of our party on the bank behind 
 us, and the weird figures of the negro girls with their white 
 skirts thrown over their heads, and the two .men trying to 
 get Mr. Sjnith once more up the incline, made a wonder- 
 ful picture. Another effort was made. The drunken 
 creature was again hauled up to the road, where he once 
 more made a snap with his teeth at Antonio, who ran 
 home, and Mr. Smith slid down to his former position, 
 dragging with him his friend Herod. Herod, however, 
 had lost patience with Mr. * 4 Snuff," and he be an to beat 
 him about the head with his fists. This, of course, could 
 not be allowed, so I scrambled down to the two men and, 
 holding Herod's uplifted arm, called on him to desist. 
 " You'll kill the man" I said. 
 " Why, Sah, he's drunk, beastly drunk." 
 " Well," I said, " and so I suspect are you." 
 Mr. Herod was indignant at this unfortunate remark ; 
 he crawled slowly up the side of the ravine, drew hims If 
 up when he reached the road, and said in a most im- 
 pressive manner : •■ Well, Sah ! If I'm drunk I can 
 be of no use to you, Sah. I wish you, and for you drunken 
 friend Smiff de obersheer, good night," and mounting his 
 mule away he rode. 
 It was a long weary time before I got help and had 
 

 A Loving Brother. xi 
 
 " Smiff de obersheer" taken to a place of safety. He was 
 almost sobered by that time, but on parting he would 
 shake hands anH thank me for "a most 'greeable 
 evening." I caught a cold, and was taught a lesson to be 
 careful when and how I next said a man was drunk. 
 
 A LOVING BROTHER. 
 
 HE following scene shows a degree of fraternal 
 devotion which throws all similar stories of 
 ancient days into the shade, and proves that 
 •where fraternal love is concerned " iron bars do not a 
 prison make." 
 
 A Portuguese dealer, whose shop was but small, had 
 been convicted of an irregularity, some one of those 
 breaches of the law into which a too ardent pursuit of 
 trade leads people. He was brought before a magistrate, 
 and the case was fully proved. 
 
 " Jose Antonio," said the magistrate, "you are con- 
 victed on this charge, and as it is not your first offence 
 of the same kind, you must be imprisoned for one 
 month." 
 
 " Prison ? You no take fine ?" 
 
 " No V 
 
 " 'Scuse me, me worship, but spose me go jail, how 
 me shop go sell." 
 
 " I cannot help that. You must put some one to look 
 after it. You have a brother, Manuel." 
 
 " Yes, me worship, but before me go put he a mind 
 shop, better me shut 'em up. Manuel ! me worship, 
 me no able for trus' him with one bit candle — " 
 
West Indian Yarns. 
 
 " Well then, you must stand down." 
 
 " Yes, me worship, but you could let me talk to 
 Manuel a little bit ?" 
 
 " Constable ! take this man down." 
 
 Presently Jose re-appears. " Beg pardon, me worship, 
 but me settle um all right." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 M Manuel 'gree with me, he go jail in me place and I 
 go mind de shop ; if you please, me worship." 
 
 But his worship did not please. 
 
 A LESSON. 
 
 F all the hospitable Scottish planters I ever knew, 
 
 the foremost was my old friend K who 
 
 owned an estate in Santa Maria, a lovely spot 
 with a house that might have been built of India rubber, 
 for there was apparently no limit to the accommodation 
 it could give, and the beds its owner could make up. 
 
 Nothing pleased him more than when a dozen friends, 
 or, for a matter of that, strangers, dropped in and re- 
 mained as long as they liked. At the time I speak of, 
 there were stationed in the colony a considerable number 
 of troops, and one favourite excursion of the officers was 
 to ride down to old f* Dunvegan" (as the planter was 
 called from the estate on which he resided), and spend 
 what they called a quiet Sunday. The fare was always 
 ample if plain, but there was no place where you could 
 find a fatter haunch of mutton, far different to the ordinary 
 
A Lesson. 13 
 
 tough and skinny stuff which so sorely tried our patience 
 and our teeth at other tables. The liquors were plentiful 
 and of various kinds: Madeira, brown sherry, stroDg 
 Scotch ale (in those days we knew nothing of pale 
 sherry or pale ale, and we drank brown brandy, and knew 
 not Hennessy), champagne, and some especially good 
 claret, all were at our command — the only drawback 
 being that we were expected in " common ceveelity," as 
 our host expressed it, to drink much more than was good 
 for us, to correct the mixture with just a dram of rum 
 shrub, and to " top up" with a big draught of rum and 
 water, * f My own particular distilling, Sir/' to refuse 
 which would have given mortal offence. 
 
 One evening, some half-dozen had come down from 
 the garrison, and the dinner had been a very jovial affair ; 
 still no one was the worse for what he had taken, 
 except a very small and young ensign, and he was only 
 affected to the extent of being moved to incontrollable 
 laughter at the accent in which our old host spoke. It 
 certainly was stronger after the Madeira had gone round 
 three or four times than before, but whenever he com- 
 menced a story, he was interrupted by a roar of laughter 
 from young Mr. Verdant. In vain did the rest of us en- 
 deavour to keep the boy in order. As soon as he was 
 quiet, and old Dunvegan recommenced, out would come a 
 peal which drowned our host's voice. He stood this very 
 patiently for a while, then getting up from the table, he 
 beckoned to Verdant and said, " I want to tell you 
 something, come with me." 
 
 Verdant pulled himself together and followed the old 
 man out to the stables. Arrived there, Dunvegan took 
 
West Indian Yarns. 
 
 the ensign by the hand and said, ■ I'm just going to 
 treat ye as I'm sure your ain faither would if he were 
 here, and 111 no doubt if ever ye tell him of it, hell thank 
 me. D'ye know it's no very ceevil of ye to laugh and 
 mock at me in my ain house before my freends, me 
 that's auld enough to be your grandfather, aye I may 
 say your great-grandfaither, so ye'll jest take what I am 
 going to give you in a f aitherly way f and so saying the 
 old fellow gave his young guest a box on each ear with 
 his big hands, much to the astonishment of the ' officer 
 and gentleman.' 
 
 ** Noo," he continued, '* well go back and finish our 
 wine and say nae raair aboot it." 
 
 VERY OFFICIAL. 
 
 HEN a head of un official department adopts a 
 particular style in h.s correspondence, it is 
 safe to be copied by ill his subs down to the 
 messenger ; and the youngest clerk chides his washer for 
 lost handkerchiefs or ill ironed collars in a '• minute" 
 which has quite the official ring afected by his chief. 
 
 I once fell in with a le ter addressed by a poice cor- 
 poral at head quarters to a solitary constable stationed 
 on the northern coast of Baratana, who had allowed a 
 vessel to communicate with the shore during quarantine. 
 It was written on official paper on which the stamp of the 
 department was duly impressed, and it ran tr u.s : — 
 
 Sir. - I am directed by the Inspector General to oHer you to 
 report the surcumsteiiCts under which you did allow the skuner 
 ■ Nancy Bell" to land peoples at Bay. Such conduck being all 
 
"My Suspeeshuns V 
 
 together contrairy to the rules and regulsshuns of the island of 
 Barataria and its dependents - 1 have, &c, SOLOMON BOBB, 
 Corporal in charge. 
 
 To P. C William Ulysses, in charge of Station. 
 
 But Bobb, though an official, was human, and he had 
 a private liking for his friend the Constable which 
 asserted itself even on a grave occasion like this, so he 
 added a postscript. 
 
 PS. Privrt and confidentshul. 
 
 Dear Bill,- I ar urprise how you could make such & 
 
 datn 5»ol of yt uraelf you best come up and make your pease with 
 the General, and no more at preasant 
 
 r suspeeshuns r 
 
 NGUS aad Jennie MacDuff were a quiet couple 
 trihtfM I Jebcw m St Maria. Angus came out 
 as an indentured ploughman with four huge 
 Clydesdale horses and a ponderous plough that was to 
 tidHe tike tenacious lands of Rosedale, and bring about 
 *he gwwrth -of unprecedented canes : but the experiment 
 did not succeed. The horses could not stand the 
 climate. The plough got " masshiated" as a labourer 
 expressed it, in other words broken, and when I knew 
 Angus, he and some monstrous horse shoes nailed on ftke 
 door were all that remained of this essay at imple- 
 mental husbandry. But Angus had thriven ; he had be- 
 mmt overseer, then mmager, and soon atter, marrying 
 the daughter of an old planter, who was an heiress, he 
 bought an estate and made money. 
 
 Prices went up for a couple of years, and Angus was 
 lucky enough to make a " big haul," which he put by, and. 
 
16 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 when prices fell again and estates went into the market, 
 he bought one at the other side of the island as a great 
 bargain. 
 
 One evening I was at Montrose, and Mrs. MacDufT 
 was telling me what a trial this newly acquired property 
 was. It required Mr. MacDufP s frequent presence* and 
 it was a long way off. " Indeed Jeanie," said Augus> 
 " it's no 5 a bad road. I'll tak' ye there some day." 
 
 " Weel ! weel ! but ye ha'e to stop there a' day and 
 come hame the next, and ye canna get yer food nicely 
 and comfortably." 
 
 •' Noo, my dear Jeanie, mak' yoursel' easy. I assure 
 you that Susan, that is auld Mrs. Pompey, is a very 
 decent auld body and cooks remarkably weel, auld as 
 she is, and I jist get a fowl and a bit fish— and Su — 
 that is, auld Mrs. Pompey does what she can ; of coorse 
 it's no' like hame." 
 
 Some days after, Mrs. MacDurl was driven by her 
 husband to Sandy Mount, as the new property was called, 
 in an antiquated gig which was Angus's first and only 
 carriage. I happened to overtake them near the house. 
 The day was very warm, and I was tired and thirsty, and 
 I thought the accident of meeting with the old couple 
 promised well for a drink, so I drew nigh. As we 
 reached the door, out came Mrs. Pompey, a very sprightly 
 and good-looking black woman of about thirty, who bobbed 
 and curtsied and wished good morning to her " massa 
 and missis." 
 
 But Mrs. MacDutf looked most sternly at Angus, who 
 gave one glance at his wife, and then found some sudden 
 difficulty with the reins which prevented his looking up. 
 
The "General.* 17 
 
 " Angus ! Mr. MacDuff !" But there was no reply to 
 Mrs. MacDuff's address. 
 
 " Mr. Macduff I" 
 
 " Yes, me dear." 
 
 " Is this woman Mrs. Pompey ? — auld Mrs. Pompey, 
 that ye say maks ye sae comfortable ?" 
 
 " Weel, yes my dear, this" — 
 
 " Then Mr. MacDuff, a' I ha'e to remairk is that she's 
 nane so auld, nane so auld Angus, and I ha'e my 
 suspeeshuns." 
 
 So saying Mrs. MacDuff got out of the gig, pushed 
 Mrs. Pompey aside, and hustled into the house with an 
 expression on her face that was the " storm signal'* in the 
 MacDuff household ; and I concluded, as the Yankees 
 say, to go on my journey. 
 
 THE "GENERAL." 
 
 A I A.HERE was a man in St. Maria (and " manager 
 out of employ" seemed to be his only call- 
 ing, for he never kept a situation long,) who, for 
 some reason or another, had acquired the sobriquet 01 
 " General," not that Mr. Ratoons was at all military in 
 figure or appearance. On the contrary, he was a knock- 
 kneed shambling fellow with round shoulders and a red 
 nose. With nothing to do, Ratoons was always ready to 
 run after anything new ; and the advent of a Swedish 
 corvette, and an intimation that the captain would kindly 
 allow an inspection of the vessel, was more than enough 
 
 c 
 
18 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 to induce the " General" and a chum of his to present 
 themselves on board. They were shewn round the ship and 
 afterwards were seated in the captain's cabin discussing 
 a glass of Madeira. Ratoons would have remained all 
 day, especially with a bottle before him, but his more 
 discreet companion, after a second glass, said " Well, 
 General, we must be going." As he said so, an officer 
 of the ship started up and left the cabin. 
 
 After a few minutes, the captain and another officer 
 rose and escorted their guests on deck, where a guard of 
 marines was drawn up. The men presented arms to the 
 bewildered Ratoons. 
 
 " Pardon, Monsieur le General," explained the captain, 
 " but had we been aware of your distinguished rank I 
 should have taken care" — 
 
 '• Oh, don't mention it," said Ratoons, waving an adieu 
 with a large cotton umbrella. 
 
 " That Madeira's got into the captain's head" said Mr. 
 Ratoons to his friend as he got into the boat. 
 
 "These English Colonial Generals do not seem dis- 
 tinguished," remarked the captain to his lieutenant. 
 
 A BAILEE. 
 
 A COOLIE once consulted a lawyer, a clever 
 fellow, but a little fond of expressing him- 
 self in a style which, to say the least of it, was 
 " high-falutin/' about obtaining satisfaction for a goat 
 that a countryman, to whom he had entrusted it, had 
 
A Bailee. 19 
 
 killed and eaten. The lawyer enquired if he had given 
 the goat to his friend. 
 
 " No ! Sahib ; me no goat give 'urn for he self — me 
 goat give 'urn supposing goat make pickney, he one 
 pickney take, he one pickney give me — suppose goat no 
 make pickney he sell 'urn, half money keep, half money 
 give me." So, in mixed Hindo-Creole-English was the 
 case stated. 
 
 " Ah then," said the lawyer, " you entrusted the 
 animal to this individual to keep half the usufruct, the 
 produce, or in case of sale to divide the proceeds ?" 
 
 " Yes, Sahib— Yes ! so me give 'urn." 
 
 " And I am to understand that the man killed it and 
 ate it. Well ! now you see he was what we term the 
 bailee — do you understand ?" 
 
 "Yes, Sah! bailee, he eat 'urn belly, head, body, 
 ebery ting eat urn." 
 
 CAUGHT. 
 
 THERE was an excellent magistrate in Barbados, 
 the terror of the Bridgetown rascals, who was 
 somewhat eccentric and usually wore a buff 
 waistcoast which had to be made of rather an extra size, and 
 gained for him among the lower orders a well-known sobri- 
 quet. One day an old offender was brought before him 
 for some offence and convicted. The prisoner im- 
 mediately became most penitent and begged the magis- 
 
20 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 trate to be lenient. « Do ! Mr. G — , do ! I beg you Sir, do 
 my kind master ! Have mercy Mr. G — !" 
 
 " Look you here," said the magistrate, " to-day it's 
 Mr. G — ; yesterday when I met you in the Roebuck it 
 was " yaller bellied-Kit." Three months — take him down." 
 
 A NEW BOOK. 
 
 I ONCE was in a country Police Court when 
 a sprightly negress, gorgeously attired, tripped 
 up to the magistrate's table to be sworn as a witness. 
 Either from nervousness, or for some other reason, she 
 giggled immensely, and when the Testament was placed in 
 her hands she nearly burst out laughing. The magistrate, a 
 solemn '* beak" in his way, reproved her for her levity, 
 and after reminding her in, a most impressive manner 
 that she was about to call her Creator to the truth of her 
 statement, &c, enquired, " Do you know what book that 
 is you have in your hand ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, my Worship, it be de book of Matrimony." 
 The magistrate collapsed, and I left the Court lest I 
 should be ordered into custody for contempt. 
 
 A HUMANE EMPLOYER. 
 
 ANY one who is connected with an estate must 
 be more or less frequently before the magistrate, 
 and the sayings and doings heard and seen in 
 Court are often very amusing. 
 
 I once was present at the ddbut, as magistrate, of a 
 
A Humane Employer. 21 
 
 friend — a stranger to the colony and its people — the 
 planters of whose district were good fellows, and some of 
 them extremely sharp witted. One in particular, a worthy 
 old Highlander, had worked his way from a humble 
 station to that of proprietor of several estates. He 
 became a Justice of the Peace and was quite a "local 
 magnate." On the occasion referred to, he was in 
 Court, and was invited to a seat on the bench alongside 
 my friend, who began to investigate a charge of wife- 
 beating preferred against a young black man. The .case 
 was clearly made out and the assault was proved to have 
 been of a somewhat aggravated character. 
 
 The magistrate in his zeal inflicted no fine, but im- 
 posed a term of imprisonment with hard labour as 
 punishment. " Weel," said the old Justice, in a stage 
 
 whisper, " Mr. you'll no mind my remarking that 
 
 " yon's a very decent mon, generally speaking. I've 
 known him ever since he was a lad, and his faither before 
 him, and I am sorry to see him in this predeecament. I'd 
 be sorry to see him go to jail, — jail is but a bad school 
 for the likes of them." 
 
 " Yes," said the magistrate, " that may be, but you 
 see, an example must be made." 
 
 " Weel, weel, I'll not go altogether against ye in that, 
 but the wife is a regular bad one — ye may call her a 
 perfect deevil, and ye don't know these black women, 
 they are enough to drive a man daft once they get in 
 their tantrums." 
 
 " Possibly ; but they must be protected." 
 
 " Yes ! just so — but I assure ye, I think if you put a 
 money fine on the fellow and speak to him somewhat 
 
22 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 severely, and gie him a bit of advice and warning as to 
 what will befall if he comes back here again on any such 
 conduct, it will be better than putting him in jail. I don't 
 like jail." 
 
 " Well," said the magistrate, " of course your experience 
 is greater than mine" (the young rascal had then none 
 at all) " so I do not mind altering the sentence." 
 
 " Here ! Quashie Othello ! Mr. Mac has spoken in 
 your behalf, and given you a good character, so I will 
 allow you this time to pay a fine, but recollect if, &c, 
 &c, &c, — you will pay ten dollars." 
 
 " Thank ye, my dear Sir," again]] whispered the Justice, 
 " I'm much obleeged to ye — ye '11 find you have done 
 right. I tak' an interest in the fellow and I'll pay his 
 fine, he will repay me. Ah ! weel, now he's dischairged, 
 I don't mind mentioning that he's my head boiler, and I 
 could not have gone about" (i.e., putting the sugar mill 
 to work) "without him on Monday. I'll wish you good 
 morning." 
 
 The magistrate's face was a picture. 
 
 A SICK-BED FRIEND. 
 
 MY friend and neighbour Carew. who managed 
 his own estate in St. Molasses, had a young 
 overseer named McGregor, a strong well-made 
 young Highlander, who learned his duties quickly, and 
 was a faithful servant ; one day, however, he sickened, 
 and fever set in ; there was in those days no district 
 medical officer and McGregor was sent off in a canoe to 
 town so as to be under proper care and treatment. Carew 
 
A Sick-Bed Friend. 23 
 
 gave up his own rooms, and enlisted the sympathies of 
 old Jane who looked after them, and a better nurse than 
 that thin frail-looking old mulatto woman no one could 
 desire. 
 
 In a day or two, the doctor reported that poor 
 McGregor's was a case of yellow fever, one of those 
 sporadic cases which will crop up now and then ap- 
 parently without cause. Carew, who received the message 
 some days later, at once hurried up to town, and I went 
 with him. There could be no doubt as to the poor 
 overseer's condition, but some days had elapsed since 
 the crisis, and McGregor was reported better, but in need 
 of stimulants, especially champagne. 
 
 My friend, who was annoyed that he had not been 
 earlier sent for, gave carte blanche for everything that 
 could be required, and then left, promising soon to 
 return. 
 
 Now in St. Molasses there was a fellow called Planta- 
 genet who was a Government employe, — a " fellow of 
 infinite wit" but of very infinitesimal principles. He 
 managed to live on a couple of hundreds a year in a 
 style which cost other people thrice as much, or more. 
 He was, however, always ready to proffer his services in 
 a most generous fashion ; often undertook a trouble- 
 some task, volunteered assistance when ever he 
 thought he could be of use, and so laid a foun- 
 dation on which he could venture at some sub- 
 sequent period to base a request. Many of his friends 
 paid for these little services by a loan, "just until 
 Tuesday," which day never seemed to arrive ; or by an 
 endorsement, " only as a matter of form," which resulted 
 
24 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 in a matter of hard cash. Plantagenet has been known 
 to saunter into the Ice House at the heels of some 
 couple who had gone in to get a drink, and ask the bar- 
 man in an apologetic tone for a glass of iced water. 
 
 " Anything in it, Mr. Plantagenet ?" 
 
 " Not to-day, Cyrus, thank you — not to-day — I am not 
 in cash as it happens, and I, as you know, never run a 
 tick for drink" (there were reasons beyond Plantagenet's 
 control for this). " Plain water with a big lump of ice if 
 you can spare it — thank you, Cyrus !" 
 
 But before the glass was raised to his lips he would, of 
 course, be asked to join the other drinkists, and I am told 
 that his firm refusal, then hesitation, followed by a 
 graceful surrender, and a murmured, " whatever you're 
 taking, thank you" — was a study. 
 
 As Carew and I went home in our canoe that night, 
 and he leant back in the stern steering with the yoke 
 lines over his shoulders, and his face turned up to the sky, 
 he said " I have had a lesson to-day, old man !" 
 
 " Yes," I replied, " what's that ?" 
 
 H Merely that, in every fellow, there's some good 
 which, bad as the man's nature may otherwise be, atones 
 for much of that badness. I used to think and speak of 
 Plantagenet as a mean, selfish snob, without one particle 
 of real good in him ; but I was wrong." 
 
 " What has occurred to make you alter your opinion ?" 
 
 " Well ! would you believe it ? old Jane says nobody 
 had been near poor McGregor, everybody funked yellow 
 Jack, except Plantagenet, and he has been round daily of 
 late, reading to the poor fellow and cheering him up. So 
 there must be some good in him, must there not ?" 
 
Very Sad ! 25 
 
 I assented, and we glided in the moonlight along the 
 coast, where the sea was like glass. We did not chat 
 much, and the silence was broken only by the thud of 
 the oars against the thole pins, and the swish of the 
 water as it rushed past us in silvery flashes. 
 
 A few days after, we were again in town and found 
 McGregor better. Old Jane was quite perky on having 
 brought her patient through, for she knew well that the 
 nursing is more than half the battle in such cases. 
 
 M Is there anything you want Jane ?'' asked Carew as 
 the two came down the entrance steps. 
 
 " Yes, massa ! I s'pose Mr. Mac will want another 
 case shampang." 
 
 " Another case of champagne ! Why, Jane, it was only 
 last week you had one." 
 
 " Dat for true, rnassa ; but no 'member massa Plagynet 
 he come ebbry day and read de 'cripture to he too nice, 
 but den he get dry, and he look for drink, and de way 
 dat buckra take de shampang — Aou ! my goodness, he 
 go down he troat same like water down a ratta hole !'' 
 
 I walked away, but as I went I heard Carew giving an 
 order for another supply of the " fizz," coupled with one 
 for the exclusion of Plantagenet. 
 
 VERY SAD! 
 
 /TAHE Revd. Peter Simple once excused himself 
 for being late at some clerical meeting, by the 
 circumstance of his having been detained at 
 
 the death-bed of a certain married woman. Mr. S. 
 
 D 
 
26 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 was very young and very zealous, and he dwelt at some 
 length on the many virtues of the deceased. She had 
 been one of the leading members of the congregation, so 
 thoroughly pious and consistent, &c. 
 
 " What did she die of ?" asked the Archdeacon. 
 
 " Oh ! a sad death, sir, she died giving birth to a 
 still-born child." 
 
 "Oh! Indeed!" 
 
 " Yes ; and what makes it more sad is that, two years 
 ago, her husband cruelly deserted her and went to 
 Trinidad and has never been heard of since !" 
 
 CHEAP GLASS WARE. 
 
 THE ladies had left the table, and had swept out 
 in a picturesque file into the adjoining drawing 
 room, and we men drew closer to our host 
 Talboys, who sent the decanters round. Talboys was 
 Dealer of Suits in the Government of Barataria, a snug 
 office with some ^*8oo to £1,000 a year, and duties 
 which, with the altered fortunes of the island, had be- 
 come less and less each year. In Talboys' father's time 
 (for the post had descended from sire to son) the in- 
 come was larger, but in those palmy days the work was 
 somewhat more onerous. The family was an ancient 
 one, and had been settled in the colony for a hundred 
 years and more, and in Barataria we thought a good deal 
 of the " first families," and looked on the men who had 
 had a great grandfather in the Island as fit to rank with 
 any one who, like Christopher Sly, had ancestors that 
 
Cheap Glass Ware. 27 
 
 came in with " Richard Conqueror." Families in the 
 West Indies, however, get poorer as they get older, and 
 the Talboys had lost estates and houses and money, 
 until a Government office was a welcome refuge from 
 the grim wolf, poverty. But old families have old habits 
 that cling to them thro' all changes, and if Percy Talboys, 
 round whose table we sate, did not keep race horses or 
 righting cocks, or play whist at guinea points, and a 
 doubloon on the rubber, as his forbears had done, he 
 had the family failing of spending more than he got, I 
 cannot say, earned. To cut his coat according to his 
 cloth was a wretched thing to do, and Percy was never 
 out of debt. He was gifted, however, with a wonderful 
 power of cajoling a creditor ; no one ever was angry 
 with him, and the fiercest dun would leave his house or 
 office with a grin on his face and a pledge to give Percy 
 another month. 
 
 With European creditors he had, as Mrs. Glass says, 
 "another way." It is on record that Talboys would 
 saunter down to the Post Office when the mail 
 came in, take his letters, look at the addresses, remark 
 that this was " from that confounded tailor," and coolly 
 write across it M Dead" and drop it back into the box. 
 The next, which was from " that greedy fellow the 
 bootmaker'' would be returned with " trv Antigua" or 
 "Jamaica" across it. How the Postmaster allowed it 
 I do not know, but Mass' Percy was a privileged being, 
 and in those days postmasters were sympathetic. 
 
 But I must return to Talboys' dinner ; we had passed 
 the claret (and it was claret) round, when Graylin — he 
 owned an estate near town — remarked : " These slender 
 
28 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 stemmed glasses of yours, Talboys, remind me of Judge 
 Buster's old butler. You know how he is kept on, though 
 old and worse than useless, because he once was 
 Greville's butler, somewhere in the twenties, and went 
 home with Greville and actually waited on the Prince 
 Regent, whom his master was fool enough to entertain to 
 his severe loss. Well, old Harklees had always been 
 used to the sturdy thickset glasses of that age, and 
 regarded the straw stemmed ware his master got out 
 last month with some degree of awe ; but he began to 
 wipe them in the good old style, holding the foot firmly 
 in the one hand, and giving the bowl a brisk rub round 
 with the cloth, when lo ! bowl and stem became dis- 
 severed. Harklees tried another with the same result, 
 and then he slowly shook his head and remarked, 
 * What next white man do ? Me gad ! he make wine glass 
 to unscrew' ; and Harklees duly proceeded to ' unscrew' 
 each of the two dozen glasses and place the foot and 
 bowl of each in due order along the table. You can 
 imagine the great delight of the Judge, who happened 
 to look at the dinner table as Harklees had concluded 
 his task." 
 
 " Excuse me, Talboys," said Jones, a medico, and a 
 good fellow, " but what splendid glass you have. I have 
 been admiring it all dinner time." 
 
 " Yes," said Talboys, " it ts good. I don't care to 
 drink out of common glass, your wine don't taste the 
 same; just as soon drink porter out of an earthen tea 
 cup. I once knew a fellow who did that, but he died 
 afterwards — of beer. This glass was a present." 
 
 " Lucky fellow !" we all observed. 
 
Cheap Glass Ware. 29 
 
 " Yes, and a costly one — worth three hundred dollars 
 they said." 
 
 n By Jove !" was all we could say under the circum- 
 stances. 
 
 " Yes," said Talboys, " we West Indians pride our- 
 selves on, and are credited with, a good deal of generosity, 
 but it isn't real. We Creoles, and creolised Englishmen 
 too, in nine cases out of ten are lazy, not generous ; it's 
 so much more easy to say ' take,' than to say ■ no/ and 
 have a jaw over it ; but when a London merchant makes 
 a handsome present like this glass, well it is all the more 
 flattering a gift, because, dy'e see, those fellows are not 
 impulsive and don't give except after mature thought." 
 
 " And what was your especial virtue, Talboys, that 
 called forth this splendid gift ?" asked Murray a small 
 man, and a magistrate. 
 
 " Well, if you want to know, it happened thus," replied 
 Talboys, tossing off a glass of Chateau la Rose : " When 
 I was at home last year, I wanted some glass, and one 
 day I strolled into Breakit and Smashem's place in Bond 
 Street, just to look round, you know. I happened to be 
 at the end of my leave and was deuced hard up. They 
 showed me no end of things, and of course you'll say I 
 ought to have gone out of the place, or better still, never 
 have gone in. Well, I saw this set, Vent, Vidi et victusfui. 
 I ordered it, told them to send it out to me, told them 
 who I was and my address and went off. In due time 
 the glass arrived in that fine old tub, the Dover, and by a 
 mail before that, I got the invoice, amount £62 5s. iod., 
 and of course a hint that a remittance by return would 
 oblige. 
 
30 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 " Well, I thought, honesty is the best policy, and I at 
 once wrote explaining that the price was far more than I 
 had anticipated, and saying that I could not afford to 
 pay more than ^25, which I would remit on receipt of 
 Breakit and Smashem's reply. I got the reply, old 
 Breakit wrote himself. He began at first as if he was 
 riled, and said something about a person in my position 
 ordering expensive and elegant glass which I could not 
 pay for; I expect then that he relented, no doubt 
 sympathising with a man whose love for art out-stepped 
 his means, and so he generously added that rather than 
 take ^25, he would make me a present of it. Of course, 
 I wrote back a letter of thanks and gratitude, and I sent 
 the old fellow a turtle. He never acknowledged letter or 
 turtle, but I am sure he was satisfied. I know I am. 
 Have another glass of claret ? Well, a whitewash, and 
 then we will join the ladies." 
 
 BOTTS !" 
 
 ONE of the largest stores in was kept by a 
 worthy German named Botz, or, as it was 
 Englished, Botts. He had a large face of extra- 
 ordinary whiteness, which contrasted strongly with his 
 black eyes and hair. Every day, and all day, from the 
 hour his store opened until it closed, Botts would saunter 
 to and fro under the gallery before its doors, clad in 
 white, always with a cigar in his mouth, which cigar 
 
"Botts!" 31 
 
 however was never lighted. He was quite a character, and 
 none of us ever went into town without paying a visit to 
 old Botts. 
 
 Once we had an accession to the garrison staff in the 
 the shape of Lieut. Colonel Sir Utterly Utter, Bart., who 
 was one of the stiffest, most pompous fools I ever met. 
 No one in the regiment caied for him. His conversation 
 consisted entirely of references to the aristocratic con- 
 nections of the Utterly Utters and the glories of Utter 
 Towers. To have to listen to a long disquisition on 
 these subjects, delivered with a drawl and half closed 
 eyes, was terribly trying to one's patience. Sir Double U, 
 as we nicknamed him, was however a very fine looking 
 fellow, but his face, like Botts', was singularly white. He 
 used to tell us, the Utters had been always famed for the 
 " marble pallor of their complexion," and the subs swore 
 he preserved the peculiarity by a nightly application of 
 cold cream. 
 
 I was staying with an old friend at an estate called 
 "Pomme d'or," when Sir U., along with some 
 other officers, was invited to spend a couple of days 
 there and see the beauties of that side of the island. A 
 very pleasant affair it promised to be ; we younger people 
 made several excursions, and left Sir Double U. to the 
 care of our host, who, poor dear fellow, had to listen 
 nolens volens to his guest's maundering talk about his 
 family. 
 
 There was of course a big dinner ; and our host, who 
 was a bachelor, got very nervous about the preparations, 
 but the resources of Pomme d'or were, as usual, equal to 
 the occasion, and but for our principal guest's either 
 
32 West Indian Yarns. ' 
 
 haughty silence or absurd references to his favourite 
 topics, we should have got on capitally. 
 
 Now, near Pomme d'or, there lived a good-natured, 
 good-for-nothing district doctor named Mike Maguire. 
 How he lived no one knew, his official pay was small, 
 and a good deal of it went in drink, — in truth he was 
 rarely sober. A more disreputable figure never was 
 seen than that Maguire generally represented. His 
 linen and clothes were grimy and shabby, and he wore a 
 battered old hat which generally bore about it evidence 
 of having recently come in contact with mother earth. 
 My friend used to invite Maguire occasionally to his 
 house and try and lead him into better courses, but any 
 improvement was but temporary. 
 
 On the evening of the dinner party, and just as the 
 cloth was removed and the wine was being passed round, 
 we were all disconcerted by Maguire opening the door 
 and rushing up to our host. " Me boy" said the doctor 
 stretching out both hands and then grasping a chair so as 
 to steady himself. "Ah! ye mean divil, to forget poor 
 Mike Maguire " when ye invited your friends." 
 
 " Dr. Maguire" — our host had risen from his chair — 
 " you must really excuse me." 
 
 " Faix and since ye apologize for the omission, Mike 
 Maguire's not the boy to bear malice, and by token " 
 
 " But I must beg—" 
 
 " Whist man ! not another word ; tell them to bring 
 me a chair and — ih ! here's a glass and begorra I'll 
 make up for lost time." 
 
 " Dr. Maguire, your conduct — " 
 
 " Me conduct is it ye want to make remarks on ? I'd 
 
"Botts!" 33 
 
 let ye know" — and here the doctor drew himself up, but 
 unluckily his eye fell on the very disgusted Sir Utterly 
 Utter. " What !" he called out, " Botts ! old cock, 
 Botts !" 
 
 " My name, sir, said the Baronet, " is not Botts. I am 
 called Utter, Utterly Utter." 
 
 "And a d d ugly name it is "too" said Maguire, 
 
 " but it suits your appearance to a T. D'ye know ye're 
 very like Botts, jest the same white face." 
 
 By this time our host had got two or three of us to 
 assist in removing the wretched intruder ; he was es- 
 corted to the door and consigned to the care of the 
 servants with orders to have him put off the premises. 
 
 When we resumed our seats our host began to offer 
 some apology to Sir Utterly, who, we could all see, was 
 boiling with rage. Just as our host was stammering out 
 a few conciliatory words, the door opened quietly and 
 Maguire, putting in his head, yelled out — "By all the 
 powers ye're the image of Botts." 
 
 We all burst out laughing, save Sir U. U., who rose 
 from his chair, trembling with indignation. The doctor 
 was dragged back by the servants, and some of us fol- 
 lowed to see the wretched fellow put on his pony and 
 started off. 
 
 The serjeant of police was sent for and asked to have 
 the doctor conducted home. But the evening's entertain- 
 ment was done for, and conversation was at an end. We 
 had all of us great difficulty, whenever we looked at Sir 
 U., in repressing a laugh, and, ultimately, that worthy 
 made some excuse and went to his room. Before he 
 left us, however, and as we were standing in the gallery 
 
 E 
 
34 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 upstairs bidding him good night, we heard people passing 
 behind the garden hedge and saw the doctor with the Ser- 
 jeant riding homewards. He was arguing away, and still 
 insisting that if it wasn't Botts, or Botts' ghost, it was very 
 like Botts. 
 
 A CARELESS POSTMAN. 
 
 OUR parish church in Barataria was an unpretend- 
 ing building, perched on a knoll at the back of 
 a town or village, whichever title you chose to 
 give to a collection of houses, some of brick or stone, and 
 others wooden, which clustered between the hills and the 
 sea. It had, like most West Indian towns, seen better 
 days, and boasted of a parade ground which, at the time 
 I speak of, was only used for cricket, and pasturing 
 skinny goats and gaunt sheep. Along the bay could still 
 be seen the half sunken, tumble down walls of the old 
 barracks and fort ; and in the sand a half dozen old, red, 
 and rusty 32-pounders lay like some stranded monsters of 
 the deep. We used to come round of a Sunday evening 
 in our canoes when it was moonlight, and go to church. 
 It was very enjoyable pulling under the shadow of the 
 cliffs that rose perpendicularly out of the sea, and which 
 in the daytime were seen to be striped with variegated 
 strata, and bedecked with long pendant plants and vines, 
 with here and there a white flowered frangipanni tree, or 
 a tall carata standing sentinel-like at some cranny in the 
 face of the rock ; but the moonlight reduced all these 
 varied tints to grey and white. The water as it lapped 
 
A Careless Postman. 35 
 
 against the rocks, or went swirling from the oars, sparkled 
 and flashed as if its drops were diamonds. Then, as the 
 canoe emerged from the shelter of the cliff, it would glide 
 across some tiny bay with its fringe of sandy beach and 
 dark back ground of wooded hills, — a fresh scene lit up 
 with all the glory of the moonlight one sees nowhere but 
 in the tropics. The parson was a hard working zealous 
 man, whose untiring industry commanded respect even if 
 we did not always accept his doctrines or his ritual. He 
 always had on hand some obscure saint who required 
 celebrating, and he confessed people at any hour. His 
 services were very frequent, and so sometimes he, as it 
 were, got hard up for a subject, and then preached a 
 sermon either below par, or one unsuited to the bulk of 
 his congregation, who were chiefly of the peasant class. 
 One night he preached about guardian angels — dear me ! 
 How earnestly he did impress upon us that there were 
 these angels around, and near us at all times, as if any 
 one doubted it. Then he quoted from some book a long 
 story about a postman, who used to cross Dartmoor, or 
 some other moor in England, alone at all hours of the 
 day or night, and who, when asked by his priest if he weie 
 not afraid, said " No ; that he used to sit down beneath 
 a particular rock on the moor, when his guardian angel 
 would sit alongside of him and the two would sing 
 hymns till he was refreshed, and then he would con- 
 tinue his tramp." It was very pretty, and, I daresay, 
 true that some postman had said so, but when on our way 
 home, I asked Solomon Sam, my stroke oar, what he 
 thought of the sermon, he replied, " De discoorse berry 
 good me massa, but da postman wha carry de letta and 
 
36 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 dem, and 'top in de way wid de hangel fo' sing hymn, 
 he muss ha' been drunk, else he see jumbie, I speck he 
 get in trubble ? bout dem self letta." 
 
 SPOTTING HER! 
 
 CREOLES have a lazy habit, which, indeed Euro- 
 peans after a short residence in the West Indies 
 acquire, of using a peculiar sound which can be 
 produced by saying M (slowly) with the lips closed, to 
 signify, according to the inflection, assent or dissent, sur- 
 prise, &c, &c. A gentleman and lady were purchasing 
 some articles in a London draper's shop, and the lady 
 asked for " netting." The shopman shewed a variety 
 of such goods but none satisfied her. He then asked if 
 there was anything else he could shew her. The lady in 
 reply shook her head, also using the sound of negation 
 above mentioned. " Oh !" said the man, "you wanted mos- 
 quito netting ?" " How do you find that out ?" asked the 
 gentleman. "The way the lady answered me told me she 
 comes from the West Indies," was the reply, " and I wasn't 
 four years in Berbice without knowing what mosquito 
 nets are." 
 
 A NEW APPLICATION OF AN OLD TEXT. 
 
 u "\^Jf T^HAT went ye out for to see?" is, of 
 V^ ^v course, a very common text. In Bara- 
 taria we had a very worthy, but rather 
 eccentric parson, who had charge of a parish in the hills. 
 One of the churches he served was a small edifice 
 perched on an elevation beside the road, with its en- 
 
An Unknown Title. 37 
 
 closure marked by dragon's blood bushes, and a clump 
 or two of bamboos. It was not too much frequented ; 
 the people round about belonged to another denomination, 
 and the Reverend Charles Chaunter was a good deal 
 disheartened at having on some Sundays to preach to 
 half-a-dozen listless inattentive hearers. 
 
 But one fine day the Reverend gentleman took unto 
 him a wife, and combining duty with pleasure, he spent 
 his honeymoon at a place not far from St. Swithin's. That 
 part of Barataria, by the way, had a wonderful rainfall. 
 Well, the first Sunday after his wedding, the little church, 
 contrary to custom was filled to the doors ; and poor Mrs. 
 Chaunter was the subject of every one's remarks, and the 
 object of everybody's stare. The Reverend Charles gave 
 out as his text the words above quoted, and then said, 
 " I'll tell you what ye have come out for to see, — my 
 wife, Mrs. Chaunter ; — there she is in that pew and when 
 you have done looking at her perhaps you'll attend to 
 me." With a less unsophisticated congregation, this 
 would probably have called forth a titter, but Chaunter 
 knew his people, and with a scarcely suppressed "Yes 
 me massa'* thev all turned their attention to him. 
 
 AN UNKNOWN TITLE. 
 
 IT is said that a young man designed for the ministry 
 once came out to Barbados, and, having called at 
 Bishop's Court, received a very kind letter, signed 
 " T. Barbados," inviting him to call on the writer, and 
 that the poor lad went about asking the waiters at the 
 
38 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 hotel if they knew where " T. Barbados lived." This may- 
 or may not be true. 
 
 A GOOD EXCUSE. 
 
 AS you come down the hill at St. Molasses and 
 enter the town, you pass a house with white 
 walls and a little enclosure in front of it, 
 where grow, or grew, a few rose bushes, and the palings 
 of which were covered with flowering creepers. 
 
 It was in, as it were, a nook and somewhat out of the 
 track of travellers who rode or walked in a very inter- 
 mittent way to or from the little town. 
 
 A very worthy old Scotch parson lived there with his 
 wife. They were rather a frugal couple, and a good 
 many jokes used to be told at their expense, and rumour 
 said that the Revd. Angus was put on an allowance of 
 stimulants, wnich his better half never allowed him to 
 exceed. 
 
 One evening just at sunset, I came in from a rather 
 long walk, and met the old man pacing up and down 
 before his house with his hands folded behind him and 
 his head bent as if in meditation. 
 
 " Good evening" said I, raising my hat. 
 
 " Ah ! Good evening to ye, Mr. Beke. Good evening, 
 ha'e ye been far ?" 
 
 " Only as far as " 
 
 " Eh ! but ye'll be dry after such a walk as that, wull 
 you come in and ha'e a glass ?" 
 
 u No, thank you." 
 
Nothing Like Principle. 39 
 
 " It'll do ye good. It is very little I tak' myself, and 
 ane too often sees the ill effects of over indulgence, but 
 jist a drap after your walk, and when you're heated." 
 
 " I am much obliged but * 
 
 " It's bad to get a chill, ye ken, Mr. Beke, and ye must 
 be careful — come up noo." 
 
 " Really," I begun, " if you will excuse me " 
 
 " Well, betwixt the twa 0' us, it'll be doin' me a kind- 
 ness if ye wull. I am feelin' myseF as if a drap would do 
 me good, but Mrs. McKenzie — weel it's only when a 
 body calls in that I get a chance, so I . beg o' you 
 come " 
 
 I yielded, and it was amusing to remark the half shy 
 way in which old Angus mentioned to his wife that he 
 had asked me in to have a glass because I looked fagged, 
 &c, and the keen look of his wife that told me the 
 excuse was rather " thin," — worn thread-bare I expect. 
 However Angus joined me and had a " fleeting pleasure." 
 
 NOTHING LIKE PRINCIPLE. 
 
 IT was " earthquake weather," not a breath of wind, 
 a cloudless sky and a burning blistering sun ; 
 there was no shade in the market square 
 of St. Maria in which my office was situated ; a few 
 parched red leaves still appeared on the almond trees 
 and the silk cottons were bare. Above the low brick 
 work of some of the houses, the atmosphere flickered and 
 waved as it does over a heated boiler. The fruit and 
 cake sellers had removed their trays to the shade under 
 the galleries, and men on the opposite side to the ice 
 
40 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 house paused and faltered before crossing that fiery 
 square, even though ice and thirst-relieving compounds 
 lay on the other side. My work was over for the day, 
 and it was my hour for going home, but I dawdled about as 
 if something would occur to render the heat less oppressive, 
 and while thus waiting, who should come in sight, making 
 for my den, but Simpson. 
 
 Simpson ? — He was a country magistrate ; most people 
 knew but little of him, he was retiring, and entertained 
 but rarely, but 1 had seen a good deal of him and I rather 
 believed in Simpson. Of late he had become a tem- 
 perance man, not a teetotaller or Good Templar, but he 
 was always preaching about fellows taking drinks too 
 often. Spirits he condemned in toto, and laid down for 
 every one a sort of drink-by-rule plan which he said he 
 stuck to ; he had the profoundest contempt for a man 
 who could not keep to rules, nothing, he used to say, is 
 so despicable as a man who makes a rule only to break 
 it, &c, &c. As I said before, I admired Simpson, and 
 it was for this perhaps, because I — if I have a fault — am 
 too prone to yield to others, and I used to** set up 
 Simpson as a model, a man with a principle (with a big 
 P) that he ever lived up to, never swerved from. 
 
 He had come to me on business that did not keep us 
 long; he would not dine with me as he had another 
 engagement. " Would he come and have a cocktail ?" 
 I asked this because I wanted to be able to say I had 
 tried and proved Simpson. 
 
 " You know I never take anything/' 
 
 " Yes, but it's an awfully hot day, and one will do you 
 good." 
 
Nothing Like Principle. 41 
 
 " There's gin or some other spirit in a cocktail and I 
 never — " 
 
 " I know, but I'm going over, won't you come ?" 
 
 " Well I'll go with you, but don't ask me to drink." 
 
 And then we sauntered to the ice house. It was a 
 small bar with no very great accommodation or variety 
 of temptations. A small black boy was the presiding 
 genius, and he had been taught how to compound some 
 of the best known drinks. 
 
 It would take too long to tell how I seduced Simpson 
 into confessing he would take something ; it was hot, 
 unusually hot, and there were occasions where a man was 
 justified in departing from a rule when considerations 
 of health, &c, rendered a strict adherence to it un- 
 advisable. Pride in my powers " of persuasion tempered 
 the regret I felt at finding that Simpson was but human, 
 and at length, Joe, who was awaiting the close of our 
 discussion, at which he seemed somewhat amused, was 
 told to make two cocktails. 
 
 "Very little gin in mine" said Simpson; "perhaps it 
 would be better without any, eh ? ' 
 
 " Mass Simpson, me nebber make cocktail without foun- 
 dashin, Sah, gin, or rum, or brandy." 
 
 *' Very well then," sighed Simpson like a martyr, " only, 
 not much, you know Joe, not much, you know." 
 
 " Yes me know, Mass Simpson." 
 
 Simpson and I took our cocktails, looked at each other, 
 turned up our little fingers perpendicular to the axis of 
 our glasses, nodded, said "here's luck;" went, in short, 
 through the absurd " drink exercise" and down went the 
 cockstails. 
 
42 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 "Ah!" said Simpson, putting down his glass and 
 feeling in his pocket, " no doubt it's very nice, but I do 
 hate breaking through a principle. What's to pay, boy ?" 
 
 " No," said I, "that's my business," So we squabbled 
 over who was to pay and then decided on tossing. " Tails" 
 said Simpson. " Heads" said I, and heads it was. 
 
 " Well, boy ?" enquired Simpson. 
 
 '*. A shillin', Sah ; and the two brandies and sodys you 
 had last night and a co'pse revivah dis marning and 
 anodder brandy and sody, will make " 
 
 I did not look at Simpson! We left the temple of 
 Bacchus. Somehow, we neither were inclined for con- 
 versation. Since then I have thought doubtingly, regret- 
 fully, that perhaps Simpson might be, after all, the 
 humbug other men said he was. 
 
 THE GOOD OLD DAYS! 
 
 WE have all heard of the young West Indian 
 heiress, who, on succeeding to her property, 
 was applied to by her Attorney for in- 
 structions about the cultivation of her estate, and who 
 directed him to take out all those troublesome canes and 
 cultivate the land for a crop of guava jelly. 
 
 There was another damsel of a more practical turn of 
 mind, who, in the good (or bad) old days, owned several 
 slaves. Her agent wrote to tell her of one old fellow who 
 had bad legs which defied all treatment, and as he was 
 unsaleable, he was a source of expense and loss to the 
 estate. He presumed he must be kept on until either he 
 
 A • 
 
Susceptible Hens. 43 
 
 got better or died. But the proprietress, with a shrewd eye 
 to profit, wrote back to have the man's legs amputated, 
 and to teach him tailoring ! 
 
 SUSCEPTIBLE HENS. 
 
 ALTHOUGH these yarns are amusing, or intended 
 so to be, I think it not improper to add to them 
 one anecdote of a scientific character ; because 
 it shews either the extraordinary effects of thermal in- 
 fluences on the susceptibility of the females of the gallus 
 vulgaris kind, in other words, of hot weather on a hen, or 
 else the fertility in excuses of the elderly black woman. 
 
 I once was in a small island, of which the food 
 products were very scanty in number, and poor in quality, 
 consisting chiefly of conchs, ground corn, pigs (very 
 gaunt and sickly), fowls of a degenerate breed, and eggs. 
 
 As an adjunct to my breakfast one morning I chose as 
 the safest food, eggs. Could I have any ? 
 
 " Oh yes, me massa," replied the old woman who had 
 charge of the * great house' of the estate of which I had 
 the temporary use, " how much you does want (r 
 
 I said two, but she brought four, * poached" as she 
 called it, but in reality still in their shells at the bottom of 
 a bowl of hot water. 
 
 1 was not well, and I cared for none of the other 
 things, potted this and tinned that, which I had brought 
 with me, and I turned gladly to the eggs, but — No. 1 was 
 not fresh ; 
 
 No. 2 was very stale ; 
 
 No. 3, well — smelt — ; 
 
44 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 No. 4 seemed to contain a sample (for analysis) of 
 Demerara lees. 
 
 I called the old lady, who came with a smile. 
 
 "Woman!" said I, striving to keep down my wrath 
 and — well other things besides — " woman these eggs are 
 bad ! stale ! old ! !" 
 
 " Me massa if you choose to believe me, dey was all 
 lay dis morning, ebbery one." 
 
 " This morning ? impossible ! Look at them ! Smell 
 them ! Taste them ! Don't tell me a falsehood — " 
 
 " Oh me massa ! you don't member how hot de wedder 
 be ! de sun so hot dis time, de fowl does lay their egg 
 so ; they can't help — " 
 
 The reply rather staggered me; I can't say I was 
 satisfied ; but yet it may be worth recording as a possible 
 truth, worthy of investigation. 
 
 OBEAH. 
 
 WHEN Mrs. came to stay with us 
 she brought her maid, a black girl some 
 22 years of age. One day on t my return 
 home, I was informed that " Blossom," the girl in question, 
 was in deep distress, because Wellington (my groom) had 
 "obeahed" her. 
 
 Now, obeah, pure and simple, and unaccompanied 
 with the administration of poison, only does harm by 
 affecting the imagination; but the negro who believes 
 that obeah has been worked against him, often pines 
 away from sheer fright. 
 
Obeah. 45 
 
 Sometimes he has recourse to some obeah practitioner 
 who undertakes to counteract the evil, and when the 
 patient believes this has been done, he recovers. The 
 mere punishment of a detected obeahman by a magistrate 
 does the victim of the fraud no good ; the law cannot 
 undo the mischief. 
 
 I interviewed " Blossom" who was in a terrible state 
 of agitation, trembling like a leaf. Wellington had got 
 soms of her hair and wore it round his waist and was 
 working obeah for her. ** He want for marry me, but 
 me no want him.'' 
 
 I rode off to the stables where I found Mr. Wellington. 
 I made him stoop on some pretext, when his jersey rose 
 up, and round his waist I saw a string with " bobs" of 
 wool, — Blossom's hair, tied at intervals. I collared the 
 fellow and sent for Blossom ; told her to bring me a 
 white handled razor, and made hei cut off the string, be- 
 cause I informed her only an unmarried person must do 
 that. She followed my directions, but her hand trembled 
 and Wellington wriggled so that he narrowly escaped 
 a slash. We then formed a small procession to the 
 house, the girl carrying the string with outstretched arm. 
 A coal pot was brought and the magic cord and hair 
 duly burned. Wellington, however, still protesting his 
 innocence, a bottle of ether was brought by Blossom and 
 was dubbed, after the Chinese method, " lie water/' 
 Wellington agreed with much hesitation to the ordeal, 
 and Blossom poured what was intended to be a few 
 drops, but what her trembling hand caused to be near a 
 spoonful on Wellington's extended tongue ; — a yell, 
 as he dashed from my side, followed, and the last 
 
46 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 I saw of Wellington for many months was my gentleman 
 bounding like a deer through the guinea grass. He 
 spread my fame as a head obeahman, and Blossom 
 recovered her spirits and health. It afterwards occurred 
 to me that I had been practising " an occult art" and 
 had rendered myself liable to fine or imprisonment. 
 
 These obeahmen are often called upon by those whc 
 should know better, to assist in recovering stolen property, 
 and persons too, whose education should have taught 
 them better, often stand in dread of these practitioners. 
 A clergyman once applied for a warrant against one 
 Archie Sam, who, to a legitimate business as cooper, no 
 doubt added that of obeah doctor. 
 
 I asked what was the offence — and the circumstances. 
 
 It turned out that the reverend gentleman had gone 
 down the coast the previous Sunday to officiate at a 
 church usually served by his curate. On his arrival, he 
 ran against Mr. Archie Sam who lived in a different part 
 of the island. Just before ascending the pulpit, the 
 rector took a glass of water from a " goglet" in the vestr) 
 room, and shortly after commencing his sermon was 
 attacked by a feeling of dizziness, which, however, soon 
 passed off. 
 
 1 explained that I did not see how anything 
 
 could be charged against Archie, but Mr. got 
 
 very angry, and said there were the facts of the appear- 
 ance of the obeahman in the village far from his home— 
 and the unusual effect of the glass of water ; for his par 
 he thought the case was clear. 
 
 I differed, and declined to issue a warrant. The rectoi 
 
Obeah. 47 
 
 complained to the governor, who reported the circum- 
 stances to the bishop, from whom the parson received an 
 admonition, vulgb, a wigging. 
 
 The materials used are of various kinds — bone, 
 needles tied crosswise with black thread and rubbed with 
 tallow, nails, wire, coals, salt, a looking-glass, cards, and 
 earth from a grave. There is nothing which may not be 
 employed. In the incantations, a white cock, and, of 
 course, rum, are^ indispensable. I knew an old fool 
 who was cheated out of ail his earnings, and ultimately 
 out of his house and home, by a rascal who assured him 
 there was much hidden treasure in his garden, and, 
 who drew heavily on him for the materials necessary for 
 its discovery. 
 
 The practice of obeah was kept up in many places by 
 men of the W. I. regiments who were recruited in Africa, 
 and, who, on being pensioned, added to their means by 
 setting up as obeahmen. 
 
 I remember several years ago, a rascal being brought 
 before me charged with practising obeah. The police 
 corporal, however, who was somewhat hasty and pre- 
 mature, had arrested the man before he had actually 
 done any act which constituted that offence. 
 
 The prisoner was an important character, as he was 
 firmly believed in by the country people, and I felt that 
 his acquittal would be considered as a striking instance 
 of his powers rather than as the result of the corporal's 
 precipitancy. 
 
 I could not convict him, but I determined he should 
 not go scot free. Pointing to a small bag he wore sus- 
 
48 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 pended from his neck by a dirty cord, I asked him what 
 was in it ? 
 
 " No harm, me washup, it only one ting 1 does wear 
 fo' keep away pain/' 
 
 I insisted on its being taken off his neck and placed 
 on the table, and ordered the fellow to open it. This he 
 refused to do. 
 
 A group of the townspeople had edged up to my 
 table, every one of whom had been repudiating all belief 
 in obeah, and in undertones expressing wonder how any- 
 body could be so foolish " as believe in such a thing." 
 To one of these gentry who was a churchwarden, and in 
 some respects a well educated man, I handed one of the 
 prisoner's razors with a request that he would cut open 
 the little packet. A very decided " no" was the result, 
 and so with each of the non-believers who shrank back 
 from the mysterious oddments spread before me. In the 
 end I cut it open myself, and, as I expected, found it 
 filled with earth probably taken from a grave. 
 
 "What is this stuff?'' I asked the obeahman. 
 
 " Dat no harm, Sah, he no poison." 
 
 " Then," said I, " you will eat it." 
 
 " Eat it my washup r" 
 
 "Yes, eat it up — you say it is no harm.'' 
 
 "Me eat it?" 
 
 " Yes, eat it up." 
 
 I shall never forget the man's face as I fixed my eyes 
 on his and uttered these words. I subsequently found 
 that he had been told I was a chief obeahman, and 
 whether he fancied my powers were real and greater than 
 his I do not know, but gazing steadily at me, he began to 
 
Very Improper! 4^ 
 
 tremble, and, eventually stretching out his hand, grasped 
 the bag, which he then raised very slowly from the table. 
 "Eat it up," I repeated. 
 
 By degrees he raised it to his lips, and placing the 
 contents between his lips, he swallowed them. 
 
 As he finished I said " Now be off ; if ever you return 
 to this district you shall be severely punished." 
 
 I waved my hand to him, and, darting through the 
 door, he made his exit. I have since heard that he 
 still lives, and that the above occurrence has been handed 
 down to present times, when small boys delight in 
 dubbing the obeahman, " Eat it up." 
 
 VERY IMPROPER! 
 
 U "T \RY goods stores" (anglice, drapers' shops) in 
 1 the West Indies are almost invariably con- 
 ducted by shopmen, or clerks as they are 
 called. A woman behind the counter is almost unknown. 
 I remember a grave official going to a store where, 
 contrary to custom, a dark lady was employed and a 
 very dignified, not to say severe, looking damsel she was. 
 The honourable Mr. Dray purchased some handkerchiefs 
 and, then, referring to a memorandum, said, " And now 
 I want to look at your stockings." 
 
 " Mistah Dray, sah ! you are rude, and your language 
 is most impraper. Dis young man will serve you, sir.*' 
 And off she bounced before my friend could explain or 
 apologize. 
 
 G 
 
50 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 CREOLE WHALERS. 
 
 f ■ "\HERE is, or was, every year a large number of 
 I American whaling schooners visiting Dominica 
 
 and St. Vincent, Grenada and other Islands, 
 where the catch at times is very remunerative. At 
 Dominica they lay in their stock of vegetables preparatory 
 to cruising about. The boat hands are also recruited from 
 young Creoles of the different islands, as they all row well, 
 and can stand exposure to the sun better than the 
 Yankee. 
 
 A good number of these lads continue in the vessels till 
 they return to Massachusetts, and thence they ship for 
 various parts. In time they come home, wonderfully im- 
 proved by having had to work hard, and being under dis- 
 cipline. Food too of a better kind than the yam and salt fish 
 of their native place has produced good results, and it is 
 difficult to recognise in a strong muscular sailor well 
 clad, the owner of a huge pair of boots, and his speech 
 strongly marked with the Yankee accent, the thin-legged 
 ragged, ill-nurtured lad, one's boatman or fisherman of 
 the previous year or so. 
 
 I once heard two of these men talking of their re- 
 spective skippers, both of whom had been drowned. 
 
 " We lost our Captain," said one, " Captain Ezekiel T. 
 Jones, off Dominica ; he fell overboard trying to clear a 
 line we had out. We got his body, and the mate he 
 headed it up in He to take home to his widow. He was 
 a good man, Captain Jones was." 
 
 M Ah,' said the other, " when I was in the Nancy Bell, our 
 Captain, Hosea Bell, he got in a row ashore at Cariacou, 
 
Vera Sateerical. 51 
 
 and he must have got a lick on the head or something, 
 for he died aboard three days after, ravin' mad. We 
 headed him up in sperm though for he was a good Captain 
 to us. 
 
 It is to be supposed that the more precious sperm was 
 used as a greater compliment. 
 
 One of these sailor lads, as black as your boots, was 
 very fond of telling his adventures in New York and 
 London. He always declared that " niggers" were the 
 worst-treated people in New York, except Irishmen, and 
 that in London every one was kind and considerate. He 
 had been an inmate of some Sailors' Home, the comforts 
 of which he thoroughly appreciated, but the chief charm 
 of the institution lay in his having had a white man at 
 his beck and call. " Yes buddy ! they onlv charge me four 
 dollar a week and you get lodging and board, and more- 
 over when I been there, sposin' I choose, I only got to 
 ring a bell and dey send me up a white man, a parson 
 too, wid black coat and white tie, all regular for read 
 de scripture to me, and every time I want him he force 
 fo' come, and all for the four dollar ! De way dat parson 
 read all troo Rebbelashuns to me was fuss' rate." 
 
 VERA SATEERICAL. 
 
 I was cantering home along a flat, that was the 
 prelude to a long, weary, scramble up a mountain 
 road, to be followed by a slide and slither sort of 
 progress down hill till I reached my home. It was a 
 threatening evening. As I entered the ravine through 
 
52 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 •which Her Majesty's high road ran, the clouds gathered 
 overhead, and seemed to shut one in. Then began a 
 patter of rain, but the sound of a horse's hoofs was heard, 
 and my friend, McPherson, coming up with me, told me 
 I must come in with him. His gates were but a few 
 yards further on, and one glance overhead at the im- 
 pending storm decided the matter. In a few moments 
 we were safely housed, when down came the torrent ; 
 the wind howled and whistled through the narrow 
 valley. The cocoanut palms bent and swayed to the 
 blast. Leaves were driven here and there, and the 
 silvery foliage of the trumpet trees (cecropia) fluttered 
 and flashed as they were twisted and torn by the gale. 
 The storm was sudden, and heavy doors and shutters 
 banged and jarred before they could be secured. Then 
 came a sudden silence, soon broken by the sullen roar 
 of the mountain stream which, often insufficient to turn 
 my friend's mill wheel, was now boiling with foam and 
 leaping over boulders and all obstacles in its hurry to 
 reach the sea. Yes, I had a drink — perhaps there was 
 something of a Pagan spirit that half led us to consider 
 it a libation to the storm god, tor as we took it — " it" was 
 a cocktail compounded by McPherson's own cunning 
 hand — we both remarked, " It's a bad night." We had 
 dinner, and Mrs. McPherson being in town, we were 
 alone ; and pipes and whisky, with a sample of very 
 old rum, were put on the table. Then there was a 
 fresh down-pour, and a gust or succession of gusts 
 that bid fair to strip every shingle off the old house, and 
 the river roared as if trying to drown all other sounds. 
 " Ye can't get hame the nicht," said McPherson, 
 
Vera Sateerical. 53 
 
 "and the wife '11 no' expect ye, so mak'yerself easy, man, 
 and licht yer pipe." 
 
 McPherson's first statement was evidently true, and his 
 advice was judicious. I agreed to stay and, in token 
 thereof, exchanged my boots for a pair of slippers and 
 my coat for one of my host's jackets. McPherson had 
 been in the colony many years ; he came as an overseer, 
 had risen to be manager and attorney, and thence the 
 transition to proprietor is, or was, not difficult. I don't 
 think he had ever been home since his arrival, and his 
 memories of his native land dated back, at least, a third 
 of a century. He used to talk of events and people, 
 most of us had never heard of, or if so, had forgotten. 
 In early youth he had been a great hunter, and the tales 
 he told of deer-stalking might have been interesting to 
 any who had ever joined in that noble sport, but to us 
 they had lost, indeed never possessed, any savour. But 
 McPherson was great at personal anecdote. His memory 
 was at times defective, but he never hesitated to break 
 into any conversation with an account of the doings or 
 sayings of some Scottish or West Indian worthy. He 
 was in his glory when he found some one to whom his 
 best stories were unknown, and on the evening in question, 
 he had found such an one in me. 
 
 " Ye kenned auld John Christie Grant who was ance 
 proprietor of " half of this estate, Mr. Beke ?" 
 
 ''No, it was before my time, I came here in 18 — 
 only " 
 
 " Ye're richt. John Christie Grant died urn 
 
 let me see, somewhere about ah weel, say, sax 
 
 years before ye cam' ; he was a wonderfu' man ?" 
 
54 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 " Indeed ?" 
 
 " Aye, as shairp a man in conversation as ye'd meet in 
 a lang day's march ; and McKenzie that owned the other 
 half of the estate — mebbe ye dinna ken McKenzie ? 
 Weel he was as guid at repairtee. Eh man, when they'd 
 get ding'donging in the verbal contest, it was a treat." 
 
 " I mind," said McPherson filling his pipe, " a re- 
 mairkable instance of the power of repairtee that Grant 
 and also McKenzie had, that occurred in this vary house. 
 Fill yer glaiss mon — the nicht's damp. Eh ! It was graun' 
 the cool cuttin' way in which Grant gied back the word 
 to McKenzie who felt it. It was jest like a sword thrust, 
 clean and direct. I'll tell you aboot it. McKenzie, he 
 was the third son of Kenneth McKenzie of the Rowans 
 in Argyllshire, and had been Captain in the 21st — no, 
 the 26th — Can ye say which regiment were the Camero- 
 nians ? Ah weel, it makes nae maitter, but I am nearly 
 positive it was the 26th; I should say the 21st if it was 
 na the — but it's no maitter, weel say the 26th. Weel, 
 McKenzie had married Grant's sister, or it would be 
 mair correct to say his half sister, for Grant's mither had 
 died jest after her husband (he was a Captain in the 
 navy) had come hame from the East Indies, and he 
 aifterwards married Dean Murray's dochter, Mary, wha 
 bore him twa sons that died airly o' measles and whoop- 
 ing cough, I think it was the eldest that had the cough, 
 but I'm no certain, and she had also a dochter ca'ed 
 Jean, after the Dean's auld sister Jean Murray, that I 
 meeself remember ; but anyhoo she married McKenzie, 
 and it was thocht a guid match. Weel, Sir, strange 
 things come aboot, and McKenzie cam' out here to speer 
 
Vera Sateerical. 55 
 
 about the estate that, owing to seercumstances, hadna 
 been makin" the lairge profits he expected ; but ye ken, 
 Mr. Beke, it's a far deeferent thing noo a days, or for a 
 matter o' that at the time when McKenzie cam' to what it 
 is now. Why dy'e ken that last mail I got account of 
 sales of sugars " 
 
 Here, I confess, I lost the thread of McPherson's dis- 
 course, but the wind had blown out one candle and its 
 fellow had been placed where it did not shed its light on 
 me, and so my having fallen asleep was unnoticed. 
 When I awoke the clock shewed I had slept half an 
 hour, and McPherson was still going on with his story, 
 the point of which I should have been sorry to miss. 
 
 " I was saying," went on McPherson, " that in this 
 way Grant and McKenzie met here in this vara room, 
 and McKenzie was getting a little warm over the dis- 
 cussion I was telling ye of, and he said, I think, as shairp 
 a thing as ae man could say to anither. He said, said he, 
 • Grant,' said he, * Grant' — Eh ! Well, well, now that's 
 strange. What were the words he used noo? Slipped 
 clean from me. Grant— I should say McKenzie — said ; 
 but ! but ! weel it's no much maitter, because, as I told 
 ye, it was Grant's reply that was so guid. ' McKenzie,' 
 said he ; getting up from his chair, and his eyes bright 
 like wi' fun and mischief ; * McKenzie,' said he ; it was 
 Grant ye understand, wha said it. ' McKenzie, I beg' — 
 eh, noo that's wonderful — I canna at the moment ca' to 
 mind what it was that Grant said, but, anyhoo I can 
 assure ye it w^s vera sateerical. Mebbe, I'll recollect in 
 the morning. Ye winna fill up your glass ! ah, weel, 
 yon's your room." 
 
56 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 I went to bed and next morning started early. 
 McPherson saw me off and cheered me as I left with the 
 promise that if he minded " what were the preceesc 
 words McKenzie used to Grant — no, that Grant used to 
 McKenzie, he would let me know." 
 
 But he never did. 
 
 A SPOILT INQUEST. 
 
 MY wife and I started one lovely morning on 
 what we hoped would be a pleasant excursion. 
 We were to ride over to some friends at 
 Paul's Prospect, whence I proposed to go to hold court 
 at Queenstown, returning to our friends for the rest of 
 the day and then riding home by moonlight. It was in 
 fulfilment of a long standing promise and we set off in 
 high glee. However, on entering a village that lay mid- 
 way in our journey and where there was a police barrack, 
 I was met by a constable who informed me that an 
 inquest had to be held on one Mingo Bacchus, an old 
 reprobate whose setting his house on fire when he was 
 drunk, had been reported to me some days before. Pie 
 had received severe burns in the fire, and had died of the 
 injuries early that morning. 
 
 This was a duty which could not be avoided nor 
 indeed postponed. I arranged therefore to accompany 
 my wife to Paul's Prospect, to ride on and hold court, 
 and then come straight back to the inquest — Mrs. Beke 
 would ride over later to join me, and we would return 
 home earlier than we had anticipated doing. 
 
A Spoilt Inquest. 57 
 
 As arranged, so it was done. In no pleased frame of 
 mind I got through my court work, dropped in at Paul's 
 Prospect for a hasty lunch, and then cantered back to the 
 Police barracks. On pulling up at the barrack gate, the 
 sergeant, a fine old fellow with a head of hair that stood up 
 and around about like crystallized soap suds, came out 
 with a downcast air and observed : — 
 
 "I beg pardon, sah, but these negurs are too scheming 
 — too deceitful, sah." 
 
 " What !— Where's the jury ?" 
 
 " Excuse me, sah, but that fellow Mingo Barkus, sah, 
 he fool me too bad — " 
 
 " All right" said I, thinking this had reference to some 
 old squabble. Where's the body ?'' 
 
 " Body, sah ? please hear me. This morning me go 
 in Mingo house, as I go ebbery morning ; he lay in he 
 bed and me say Barkus ! Barkus ! but he no say nuffin, 
 so I go and dere he be on he back, for he eye shut and 
 mouff drop, and so me say once more ti.ne ' Mingo 
 Barkus — in the name of de Queen is you live or is you 
 dead ?' — he no say nuffin, so me liff he hand and he let 
 him drop, bam ! den me shake um, and shake um, but 
 he nebber 'tir, so me say Barkus dead for true, and me 
 send call you, sah — " 
 
 " Very well, sergeant, let some one take my horse and 
 1 will swear in the jury — ". 
 
 " But, sah, please hear me more. After you come and 
 go away and me go in Barkus house, me see um sit 
 up in he bed. " Mr. Barkus, says I, eh ! eh ! what dis 
 conduck ? — spose you know you has to be sat upon by 
 his washup and de jury duly sworn strickly to enquire 
 
 H 
 
58 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 the cause of your de't ; and Barkus, the out-lawded 
 raskil, he begin for laff. He say, • Me gad ! sargin,' 
 eh-berry day you come look on poor Barkus and gib' me 
 sweet mout' and say, ' You is better to-day Barkus ?' 
 and eh-berry ebening de same ting. Sargin', you does 
 weary me wid you quesshun and so me say me fool you, so 
 dis morning, me ' " 
 
 "Then," I interrupted, "he is not dead?" 
 
 " No, your washup." 
 
 "Bother it," said I, "you should be more careful. I 
 cannot ride over to Paul's Prospect, it's five miles, and I 
 must wait here till Mrs. Beke comes." However, I lit 
 my pipe and killed time till my wife arrived, and then we 
 went home. 
 
 A week after, one Sunday, we saw the sergeant riding 
 a small pony up the avenue of palms that led to our house. 
 He dismounted, hitched up his animal, passed his fingers 
 through his woolly hair, pulled his collar up and his 
 tunic down, and then marched up to our porch where we 
 were seated. 
 
 A salute in the sergeant's best manner, and " a good 
 evening your washup" followed. 
 
 " Well ! sergeant, and what brings you here ?" 
 
 " Got him at last, sah, got him, sah !" 
 
 " Got whom ?" 
 
 " No sham dis time, washup ; he dead for true !" 
 
 "Who is dead:" 
 
 " Dat scheming outlawded fellah, Mingo Barkus, sah ! 
 me find urn \retch out on he bed, and at first I tink he 
 go for play he ole game, but he dead; howsever, for 
 make sure, me bite he toe and he lilly fingah, and me 
 
No Tailor. 
 
 59 
 
 put lighted match under he nose and me 'cratch he two 
 eye ball, but he 'top 'till, and me say he dead and me 
 come tell you." 
 
 " So the sergeant had some refreshment, and next day 
 I " sat upon Mingo Bacchus." 
 
 NO TAILOR. 
 
 A GOOD many years ago there lived in Bar- 
 bados a General Haynes, whose state-garb 
 included a puce or claret-coloured coat. He 
 was a well-known and much respected character. 
 
 A Barbadian planter went to England about that time, 
 and, as is usual with new arrivals, desired a fresh " rig 
 out," and with this view he took himself, when in London, 
 to some West End tailor, the Poole of the day. 
 
 *' I want ye to make a co-att." 
 
 " Certainly, sir ; what style ?" 
 
 " Well, look heiir, ye know General Hay-uns down in 
 St. Philip's?" 
 
 " No, sir, I can't say I have the honour of the General's 
 custom." 
 
 " Well, I want a co-att like he own." 
 
 11 What sort of a coat, sir, does the General wear r* 
 
 " It's the colour of a yam 'prout." 
 
 " I beg pardon, sir, what colour ?" 
 
 " I tell ye, the colour of a yam 'prout." 
 
 " What colour is that, sir ?" 
 
60 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 " Well ! well ! me faather ; if you doant know General 
 Hay-uns, neither the colour of a yam 'prout, ye cannot 
 be much of a tailoi, and so I wish you good day-ah !" 
 And the customer departed. 
 
 PAY NO OBJECT. 
 
 THE manager and I were in the gallery, we had 
 finished breakfast and commenced our pipes. 
 The weather was propitious, canes yielding 
 splendidly, juice hardly wanted boiling to become sugar, 
 attorney was satisfied, and prices had gone up with a 
 rush. 
 
 Then there appeared a long, lanky figure walking 
 slowly up toward the house ; a stranger evidently ; who 
 could he be ? The manager called for a telescope, but 
 the boy had retired with the balance of the breakfast, 
 and so before we could make the enemy out, the enemy 
 was down on us. 
 
 He was tall and lean, as the medical men say, not well 
 nourished ; his hair was long and sandy, and his eyes a 
 steel blue ; his complexion was motley with a shake of 
 the freckle castor over it ; and his clothes, his boots 
 especially, had seen better days. Off went his hat as he 
 came up the steps. 
 
 " Morning, gentlemen !" 
 
 "Morning." 
 
 " Whilk i the twa '11 be the manager?"' 
 
 " I," replied my friend (I think though, he said " me.") 
 
 " I'm in search ofasituationjSii^aiblinsyeha'eavacancy ?" 
 
 '' Well, as it happens, I have not." 
 
Liquid Measure. 6i 
 
 " I'm sorry, but may be you'd tak' me on till there 
 is ane ?" 
 
 " Really, I have no work for another overseer." 
 " Still, ye ken, I micht be o' use as a suppernummery. 
 I've just come ower frae St. Sinner's, whare I could na 
 keep my health." 
 
 " I'm very sorry, but I cannot engage you." 
 
 " Ef it's the sailary ye're thinking o' " 
 
 " My good sir," said the manager, " I have no vacancy 
 and could not take in another overseer to pay him." 
 " I'd no look for pay." 
 
 " What d'ye mean ? You could not do without your pay 
 I presume." 
 
 M Indeed, yes ; ef ye'll let me come on the estate I'd 
 mak' mysel' usefu' and I'd no require ony wages." 
 " Why how could you ?" 
 
 " Ye'll excuse me, sir, but on a big estate like o' this, 
 there's plenty o' orra things aboot, and I'd be aye pickin' 
 up something till ye fund it convenient to allot me a 
 sailary !" 
 
 I protest if I had been the manager I would have hired 
 the fellow, but my friend waxed angry, and the stranger 
 left hurriedly, and we soon saw him stalking along with 
 a hopeful air in the direction of the next estate. 
 
 LIQUID MEASURE. 
 
 /^ I AjIE chapel of St. Dunder cum Lees was built 
 by a pious planter in the island of St. Molasses 
 and was served (I believe that's the correct 
 
 term) by one of the curates of Saint Centrifugal. There 
 
62 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 was one of the latter clergymen who was above vulgar 
 prejudices and took his liquor not wisely but too well. 
 It was a long up and down hill ride to St. Dunder cum 
 Lees, and exhausted nature required to be recuperated, 
 and so the Rev. Bibulous Absorbent arranged with an 
 old dame who lived hard by the chapel that he might 
 have a long drink of brandy and water at the end of his 
 ride. The Rev. B. A. at first supplied the liquor, but 
 he thought it went faster than it should, and finally, in 
 defiance of excise laws, agreed to pay for his drinks as he 
 had them. 
 
 " One Sabbath evening it had come on suddenly to 
 rain, and the rev. gentleman was wet and weary ; he 
 alighted at Mrs. Brutus's cottage and went in. 
 
 "Eh, me fader ! parson ! me no tinkyou a come dis wet day." 
 
 " Well, Mrs. Brutus, the rain overtook me and I have 
 got a chill, however oblige me with a little brandy." 
 
 " Reverence, me too sorry ; but one wutless hog run 
 troo de house and capsize de butler tray with all me 
 ware, and me glass and ebberry ting 'mash up, and me 
 no got one tumbler self." 
 
 "Never mind, I can drink from the bottle Mrs. 
 Brutus ; wet as I am, it will perhaps be best without 
 water." 
 
 "Berry well, my reverence; look de bottle." 
 
 And his reverence drank, throwing back his head. 
 
 " Ah," said he, handing the bottle to Mrs. Brutus, 
 " these things are given us for our good." 
 
 " Yes, me massah." 
 
 " And it is only wicked sinful men who abuse them." 
 
 " Yes, me reverence." 
 
Grass and Rum." 63 
 
 " Here Mrs. Brutus is the 'ten dog' (sixpence). Short 
 reckoning makes long friends you know." 
 
 " Dat for troo, Mr. Sorbint, but it's a shillin' dis time." 
 
 " Why? Mrs. Brutus, it is only 6d. a drink you know, 
 and I paid you last time." 
 
 " Eh, eh ! massa, me no a^watch dem two long ting 
 you got nex' for you troat." 
 
 " You mean my bands ?" 
 
 " Yes sah, and me watch good and me see dem band 
 go wabble twice, so me know you a take two swaller and 
 dat a shillin'." 
 
 And the Reverend Bibulous stumped up. 
 
 "GRASS AND RUM." 
 
 DUTY, and one of H. M. Ships on the station, 
 once took me to St. Sangaree. We arrived 
 there early in the morning, and as we steamed 
 slowly under the lee of the island we saw fluttering from 
 the signal post, the flag which informed the world of St. 
 Sangaree that " man-o'-war 'teamer a come." 
 'The anchor was not dropped, as H.M.S. "Leda" was 
 bound elsewhere, and so she waited until the Harbour 
 Master came off. Things are, or were, done in a 
 leisurely fashion in that romantic isle, and it was half 
 an hour before a functionary in a seedy blue coat and 
 battered Panama hat came alongside in a boat, which, in 
 spite of the two-thirds of a Union Jack over its stern, 
 looked as if its usual employment was to carry sugar 
 barrels, instead of doing duty as Harbour Master's gig. 
 
64 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 After the usual parley, and bidding my friends adieu, I 
 got into this very substantial craft and reached the shore. 
 The population of St. Sangaree was represented by three 
 urchins and a policeman. In time I found a hospitable 
 friend and after breakfast reported myself to the " powers 
 that be." , 
 
 A day or two after I went on business across the 
 island, and a very delightful ride it was. A bridle path 
 led through the woods, sometimes up sharp ridges, at 
 others down slippery gulleys, but the varied foliage and 
 lovely scenery which met one's view made up for any 
 fatigue. 
 
 As I got to what were the back lands of the estates on 
 the other side, my horse, or rather pony, got an awkward 
 wrench of the fetlock and went dead lame. I had already 
 walked down hill leading him, but now the animal's 
 progress was very slow, and it seemed as if I should not 
 reach my destination before dark. However I plodded 
 on, and by degrees reached what had evidently once 
 been cultivated land, although now overgrown with trees 
 of recent growth, interspersed with tall coffee trees of 
 considerable age ; then we came to provision grounds, 
 where no one was to be seen, and after an hour's progress 
 I saw, welcome sight! a house before me. As I 
 approached the gate, one half of which had became 
 detached from the post, an old man came out and asked 
 where I was going ? 
 
 He was about sixty years old, with long white hair and a 
 very ruddy face, due, as it struck me, less to exposure to 
 the sun than to internal applications. His enquiry was 
 in a polite tone, and I explained matters. 
 
" Grass and Rum." 65 
 
 " You cannot reach P to-night. Allow me to 
 
 offer you a shelter here. Rest your horse and continue 
 your journey in the morning." While I was hesi- 
 tating the old gentleman called "Joe" and gave my 
 pony into his care, — telling him to rub the lame leg with 
 " high wines" and bandage it, — and then my host led the 
 way to his house. 
 
 It was, or rather had been, a charming residence ; the 
 lower storey was of stone, and had a raised garden round 
 it. A mountain stream had been induced to wind its 
 course along the front, and was spanned by a brickwork 
 bridge covered with creepers. Some splendid cabbage 
 palms stood as sentinels at the entrance ; and here and 
 there were well laden spice and orange trees. 
 
 I found myself in comfortable quarters ; the house was, 
 it is true, " not as it used to was," but everything showed 
 the remains of former — I might almost say — splendour ; 
 and my host who, as I found, was ot French extraction 
 and the last of the family who first settled on the estate, was . 
 a pleasant companion. He had not left the island for 
 fifty years, and had seen his property decline from a 
 remunerative estate to a heavily encumbered possession 
 on which he was now merely permitted to reside. After 
 I had rested, we took a turn round the garden, and I 
 listened to an account of its former beauty. Walking 
 about, we came upon a patch of mint, and I casually 
 enquired of my host if he was fond of julep. He did 
 not appear to have made the acquaintance of that 
 seductive compound, and so "Joe" was called, and a 
 bundle of the fragrant herb carried indoors. 4 
 
 Our stroll ended, I compounded, as well as I could 
 
66 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 without ice, a couple of glasses of mint julep, with which 
 my host appeared delighted, and indeed, after dinner, 
 he asked me to shew him how to compound another, 
 and he repeated the experiment until he became fairly 
 proficient. 
 
 I am sorry to say the old gentleman imbibed that 
 evening more liquors than mint Julep, and when bed 
 time came he had to call in the aid of " Joe." In the 
 morning, however, he appeared as fresh as could be, and 
 had inspected my steed, which was pronounced to be fit 
 for the journey. In a short while, after coffee, I was on 
 my travels again, having accepted a very pressing 
 invitation to spend a few days whenever I could come 
 to M Chateau Meudon." 
 
 A day or two after I left the island, and a couple of 
 months passed before I returned. Arriving one Sunday 
 morning, I went on to Chateau Meudon, intending to 
 spend the day there. Dismounting at the door and seeing 
 no one about, I shouted for " Joe/' but instead of Joe a 
 portly dame waddled up from the direction of the 
 kitchen. 
 
 " Master in ?" 
 
 " Eh ! eh ! massa dead ?" 
 
 " Dead ? what Mr. ?" 
 
 " Yes sah — he dead for true.'* 
 
 M When did he die ?" 
 
 " He died last Thursday." 
 
 " Dear me," said 1, " how sad ; I never heard he was 
 ill ; what did he die of?" 
 
 M Well, me massa, two months ago one wutless buckra 
 come from de Gubnor house - and he 'top here one night 
 
Good-bye Popkins. 67 
 
 wid me poor ole massa and he hab berry little to do, fo'he 
 teach de poor ole massa for drink grass and rum, and 
 massa he drink grass and rum teel (till) one day he fall 
 down and him dead. It been good if that buckra keep 
 he grass and rum fo' heself." 
 
 I remounted and went back to my quarters a sadder 
 if not a wiser man. 
 
 GOOD-BYE POPKINS. 
 
 WHEN I was serving as second officer on 
 board the R.M.S.P. Guadalquiver we had 
 a tremendous swell as purser. He was by 
 no means a bad fellow, but the way in which he got 
 himself up, and the airs he gave himself, tried our 
 patience and our tempers a good deal. He always 
 dressed in white, and his linen was the admiration and 
 envy of us all. Of course we knew who his laundress 
 was, but she respectfully but firmly declined our custom, 
 and insinuated that as her whole time and mind were 
 dedicated to getting up Popkins' shirts, collars, and 
 trousers, she had no time to attend to us : so we had to 
 put up with the inferior skill of some other practitioner. 
 
 Popkins was great with lady passengers : he could 
 sing fairly well, and he had a quaint little instrument of 
 the guitar tribe which he had picked up in Naples, and 
 on a moonlight night, Popkins was safe to be found perched 
 up in the centre of a small crowd of admiring ladies 
 twing-twanging away an accompaniment to a lackadai- 
 sical Italian canzonetta, or notturno, or some such foolery, 
 
68 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 which he sang with upturned eyes and grimaces. And 
 then he generally had a confqunded yarn tacked on to 
 every song. " Ah !" he would say with a deep sigh — " Ah, 
 I first heard that sung by la Marchesa di Macaroni. Of 
 course some of you must have heard of her ! the beauty 
 of Napoli, that is, Naples. No ? — That is strange. Well 
 we were great friends, poor Teresina ! her fate was a sad 
 one. What ? Ah, excuse me, some other time perhaps, 
 but not now ;" and then he would go tinketty tanketty 
 tan on the guitar, a diamond ring he wore on his little 
 finger flashing in the light, and string out a merry dance 
 tune to which he warbled some >vordless song. Popkins 
 was not a bad-looking fellow. He had big dark eyes 
 and a good nose, and his well-shaped mouth was only partly 
 hidden by a moustache. He certainly attracted the 
 women, and was (or said he was) engaged to some fresh 
 inamorata each trip. I need not describe his cabin. 
 It was luxuriously furnished with all sorts of fancy work 
 adornments, and its sides were covered with photos, — all 
 of them of female beauties. The only portrait of a man 
 was one representing a stern looking officer in uniform 
 with no end of decorations, to which Popkins always 
 referred as that of "the author of my being." We 
 never could draw him on this subject ; in fact he used to 
 get angry if he were at all pressed, and we used to worry 
 him by pretending that one of us thought it was the 
 Duke of A — , and another Lord P — Others declared it 
 resembled the King of Portugal, or the hereditary Grand 
 Duke of Seltzerwasser ; but in any case there was no 
 doubt Popkins came of genteel, if not of distinguished 
 parei tage. 
 
Good-bye Popkins. 69 
 
 Well, one trip we had as passenger a Spanish lady, 
 bound, I think, for Havana, who was young, handsome, 
 and a widow, and spoke English perfectly. She very 
 often talked of her Cuban possessions and of her family 
 in old Spain, and being very musical sang pretty little 
 ballads, of course accompanied by Popkins. He and she 
 were always together. Popkins shewed her the photo- 
 graph of the person who he said was responsible for his 
 existence, and exhibited those of the English and other 
 ladies who were his admirers, and the Sefiora in return 
 brought out the portraits of her late husband and her 
 family and views of her Spanish home, &c We used to 
 chaff Popkins about Sefiora Mercedes, but he took it all 
 quietly, and from wh t was gathered from the lady she 
 evidently was rather smitten with the purser. 
 
 One night — the night before we made Barbados — 
 Popkins and the Senora were sitting side by side in deep 
 and earnest conversation. It was not possible to hear 
 what they were talking about, but it was clear that the 
 Senora's hand lay in that of Popkins, and his arm was on 
 the top of her deck chair, and their faces so close that 
 her lace mantilla every now and then was blown across 
 his cheek. The next morning we were at anchor, and, 
 of course, Popkins was very busy — too busy to be able 
 to say much to his Mercedes who was early on deck 
 looking at the busy scene in Carlisle Bay, and evidently 
 amused at the appearance and talk of the Bimshire 
 negroes. After a while, Popkins could spare a moment, 
 and he came to her side, but on his way he was accosted 
 by a black lady known to us as Mary Jane, but who to 
 the outer world was Miss Pilgrim. 
 
7° West Indian Yarns. 
 
 ** Marnin' Mr. Papkin, marnin', I really glad to see 
 you again. Eh ! you look fuss-rate" — and she stuck out 
 her hand ; — this, Popkins declined and replied : — 
 
 " Good morning Miss Pilgrim — see you presently." 
 
 Mary Jane waited patiently for a while and watched 
 Popkins as he bent over Senora Mercedes. 
 
 " Mistah Papkins !" 
 
 No reply. 
 
 " Mistah Papkins !" in a louder tone. 
 
 The purser obeyed the call, and there was a muttered 
 whispered colloquy between him and the blanchisseuse, 
 which gradually became louder and louder, until Popkins 
 wheeling round, left Mary Jane and strode towards the 
 Senora. 
 
 " Mistah Papkins" — 
 
 "D you" said Mr. Popkins. 
 
 " Eh ! good faith ! and ye cuss me — me, Mary Jane 
 Pilgrim ! Good father — you disremember how me been 
 mo' dan mother to you — how me wash you clo'es and 
 even make up what you want from other gentlemen's 
 trousis and shirts and collahs and hanchifs, — and Papkins 
 you never never pay me a cent. Aow Papkins ! and 
 now you cuss me — well, well, Papkins ! I going, good-bye. 
 If you please, when you done wear Mr. Crawford best 
 shirt you could send 'em — Good-bye Papkins." 
 
 Poor Popkins ! Senora Mercedes was convulsed with 
 laughter behind her fan, and the purser was as red as a 
 pepper. It was in vain he attempted to renew his con- 
 versation with the lady. As he commenced, she would 
 go off into a fresh peal, and so at last he took his 
 leave. 
 
D. I. O. 71 
 
 When the time came for the Senora to embark on 
 board the other steamer, another officer escorted her over 
 the side, but as she went she turned round for a moment, 
 and, waving her hand to the purser, bade him farewell 
 — " Good-bye Mr. Papkins." 
 
 D. /. O. 
 
 THE Ffysshes were an old St. Molasses family. 
 A "Fish" had migrated from some other 
 island in the middle of the last century, and 
 there were dim traditions of his being the son of one of 
 the old Buccaneers and his Carib wife. However that 
 may be, he struck root and flourished, married into a 
 highly genteel family, and died wealthy and respected. 
 The fashionable wife of a descendant had brought about 
 the change in spelling the name from " Fish" to " Ffysshe," 
 and there was some forty or fifty years ago in St. 
 Molasses one Frederick Ferdinand Ffysshe, whose parent 
 had dissipated his property so that the representative of 
 the family had been glad to accept a post in the Colonial 
 Customs' service. The amount of salary being inadequate 
 to meet the requirements of Mass' Fred, as he was called 
 by the black Creoles, with whom he was an especial 
 favourite, Mass' Fred was always "hard up." Still he 
 managed to live well — was always fashionably dressed 
 (he had three London tailors), and being a handsome, 
 affable young fellow with a large stock of assurance, he 
 managed to carry on sometimes by wheedling and 
 coaxing, at others by ignoring a stoppage of credit and 
 
yi West Indian Yarns. 
 
 coolly taking what articles he wanted out of a store, the 
 clerks being paralysed by his audacity, or by finding a 
 London tradesman willing to exchange his goods for 
 Fred's promises. Mr. Ffysshe thus continued to existin very 
 comfortable style, and transient visitors to the island and 
 naval officers who enjoyed his excellent hospitality carried 
 his fame as a generous host far and wide. But of such 
 things there is sooner or later an end. People grow 
 rusty and impatient, and Mass' Fred's name figured as 
 defendant in several suits. He endeavoured to appease 
 his creditors by giving to this and to that, what he could 
 spare of his luxurious surroundings ; his pay was hypothe- 
 cated, and his furniture and plate and jewellery all by 
 degrees became absorbed, and still he was hampered. 
 The legislators of St. Molasses, it may be mentioned, had 
 always disapproved of bankruptcy laws, and a debtor had 
 no opportunity of compromising his debts by surrender 
 of his assets. At last, to Fred Ffysshe, bread and 
 cheese, so to speak, became hard to obtain. He still 
 preserved a respectable exterior, for his clothes were well 
 made and he had a knack of making them look their 
 best, but it was a matter of notoriety that Mr. Ffysshe 
 had been compelled to occupy a room over the "Queen's 
 Hotel'' as the grubjpy and rather noisy Restaurant of the 
 town was called. It was kept by an old black man, the 
 ex-cook of departed Governors and first families of the 
 island, and if the lodgings were not everything that could 
 be desired, the board was excellent. None could cook 
 turtle like Baptiste. Fish that under ordinary treatment 
 was only eatable, was converted by him into food fit 
 for the gods, and the same with all else that came to his 
 
D. I. O. 73 
 
 hand. Mr. Fred. Ffysshe, therefore, was in clover as far 
 as his 'provande' went; but he had to put up with 
 humble gin and water and the disagreeableness of his 
 home. Baptiste fully recognized " Mass' Fred" as one of a 
 family endeared to him and his class by lavish hospitality 
 to equals, and generous largesse to humble dependants, 
 and he was proud to receive under his roof the impe- 
 cunious Fred. He did not often see the colour of Mr. 
 Ffysshe's money, but patiently awaited the good time 
 which his guest always assured him was coming. Baptiste 
 also became his confidant and this filled him with delight. 
 When, as was often the case. Baptiste would come upon 
 people discussing Mass' Fred and his fallen estate, 
 Baptiste would chuckle and draw himself up and 
 observe : " All you neegur no know nuffin 'bout de case, 
 Mass' Fred no go trust he bidness to fellah like you — 
 so shut you mout' " and then would strut off many inches 
 taller. Still Baptiste was anxious about payment, and at 
 length he ventured to remonstrate with Mass' Fred, when 
 the latter told him he was about to leave the island, go to 
 England and make a fresh start there. Baptiste, however, 
 appreciated the difficulty of his lodgers getting away and 
 hinted as much. " Chut !" said Ffysshe, " don't you 
 know Baptiste, that every time the mail has come in for 
 the last six months I have gone round and told every 
 body good bye, that 1 was going in the mail, but they 
 laughed and took it as a joke, and so if I say I'm going 
 in the next steamer they will think I am still making 
 fun." 
 
 " But," began Baptiste 
 
 " But," continued Ffysshe, *' next mail dav is Sunday 
 
 K 
 
74 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 and the Sheriff can't stop me. Now listen Baptiste ! I 
 owe you, but I'm going to pay you. I would have done 
 so before but you'd have got drunk and told people I 
 had given you money and then they would have been 
 down on me, — now hear'ee. I'll pay you before I leave 
 if you'll keep my secret till then." Baptiste agreed and 
 never breathed a word: When the homeward mail came 
 in on the Sunday, he put Mass' Fred's travelling luggage 
 in a small canoe, and then paddled off with it to the 
 steamer. Mass' Fred, who was supposed to be on duty, 
 found his way easily on board and then came the parting 
 with Baptiste. 
 
 The poor faithful old negro had tears in his eyes at 
 thoughts of parting with his friend and patron, but with 
 his grief there struggled a sense of fun and triumph. 
 
 " Baptiste" said Ffysshe, "here's a letter for the 
 Controller, he has my money and this is an order to pay 
 you the two hundred dollars I owe you. Take it to him 
 on Monday, don't let anyone know or they may stop it — 
 and— there goes the bell — many thanks, old man, for your 
 kindness. I won't forget you — there — good bye"' — and 
 hastily shaking Baptiste's hand, Mass' Fred giving him a 
 sealed envelope disappeared below. Baptiste brushed 
 his eyelashes and slipping down the side got in his canoe 
 and gained the beach. 
 
 Some time after, when people asked him " Where 
 Mast,' Fred?'' Baptiste, 'with a grin, jerked his thumb 
 seaward and remarked, ■• Mass' Fysh ? Well buddie* he 
 gone in de teamer !" And when all through that day 
 Baptiste was besieged by anxious, angry men who asked 
 
 * brother. 
 
D. I. O. 75 
 
 "Where, where is Mr. Ffysshe ?" to each and all Baptiste 
 calmly replied with the same jerked thumb — " he gone 
 in de 'teamer/' 
 
 When the Monday came, the Controller who always 
 went to his office early and devoted some twenty minutes 
 to walking up and down the verandah with a pipe in his 
 mouth, found Baptiste awaiting his arrival, and learning 
 that he wanted to see him on pressing business invited him 
 upstairs. When they were alone, Baptiste after looking 
 right and left to see there were no witnesses, slowly drew 
 out Ffysshe's envelope and handed it to the Controller 
 who glancing the address and then at Baptiste, asked, 
 " Mr. Ffysshe eh ! where is he, Baptiste ?" " Mass' Fred, 
 san" was the grinning reply, "he gone a 'teamer;" and 
 the Controller opened the letter and read it, and 
 then slowly tore the enclosure into shreds and scattered 
 them to the wind. 
 
 " Well sah — when me come fo de ting?" 
 
 " What thing, Baptiste ?" 
 
 "De money, sah," 
 
 " What money ?" 
 
 M Aow ! Controller ! Mass' Fred tell me sposin' me 
 take dis lettah to Controller, Controller gib me two 
 hundred dollah, Mass' Fred owe me/' 
 
 " My good Baptiste, Mr. Ffysshe wrote nothing of the 
 sort/' 
 
 " No sah ? Well wha he been write if you please, 
 sah?" 
 
 " Well, all he wrote was ' Dear Snooks, D. I. O/" 
 
 "D. I. O. what dat for. Controller? 
 
 "It means, Baptiste, Damme I'm Off. It was a leave 
 taking don't you see — D. I. O." 
 
yd West Indian Yarns. 
 
 " Aow ! me Gad — he say nuffin 'bout money ?" 
 
 " Nothing, and I have nothing for him." 
 
 " Well ! well !" murmured Baptiste as he picked up 
 his old hat,— " Well! well! Mass' Fred a fool me fo' 
 true ; but never mind ! me boa'df he, me feed he, and I 
 leave he to Gad/' And the old fellow raised his eyes 
 and hands to the ceiling saying "Well! well! D. I. O.! 
 D. I. O.," and repeating these cabalistic letters he hobbled 
 out of sight. 
 
 It is only fair to say that ' Mass' Fred' fell on his legs 
 in England, and before long repaid Baptiste with ample 
 interest. 
 
 OLD BARATARIA. 
 
 P I A,HE old West Indian Governor of 1790- 1830 
 was in every way dissimilar to him of more 
 recent days, drawn from a different class and 
 selected to rule a different community. The type has 
 long since ceased to exist, while the social and other con- 
 ditions of the islands have vastly changed. Every day as 
 " oldest inhabitants" disappear, it becomes more difficult 
 to realise West Indian political and private life in the 
 "good old days.'' Let me then, repeat what I remember 
 of some yarns about the Governors and people of " old 
 Barataria" and other places. 
 
 Sir Charles Crosstree was a gallant sailor distinguished 
 in several of the brilliant actions which gained renown for 
 the British Navv in the nineties and the first fifteen years 
 
 f board. 
 
Old Barataria. 77 
 
 of this century, and whose crowning exploit was the 
 capture of a West Indian Island under circumstances 
 which shed on him the greatest credit ; and though some 
 professional detractors hinted that gold had done more 
 to secure victory than had iron and cold steel, Sir 
 Charles was rewarded by a grateful Sovereign with the 
 Government of Barataria and its dependencies where he 
 reigned for a much longer period than the teim of a 
 Governor's command now a days. He is described as of 
 medium stature, with what old writers term an agreeable 
 figure, — bright searching eyes and the aquiline nose 
 which generally marks the ruler of men. 
 
 There was an air of romance about Sir Charles's 
 appointment, for without much private means, expensive 
 habits had led him to outrun the Constable, and there 
 were difficulties in the way of leaving England for the 
 distant island he was to govern. So great were these 
 difficulties that it is generally understood that Sir Charles 
 travelled all the way from London to the port of em- 
 barkation in a hearse, while the Sheriff's officers were 
 cleverly decoyed into a long-winded chase of a post 
 chaise, supposed to contain Lady Crosstree and her maid, 
 down the western road, under the belief that Sir Charles 
 would call in at Falmouth to take her ladyship on board. 
 
 It was a busy time in Barataria. There was a large 
 garrison, and ships of war were cruising round the 
 islands, frequently calling in and making up for hard- 
 ships and dangers afloat by merriment and junketing 
 ashore. A sharp look out was kept at the Fort, the 
 batteries which protected the different bays with which 
 the island is indented were all manned, and at other 
 
78 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 points regulars or militia were posted. Any strange sail 
 caused a flutter of excitement, and the troops would be 
 on the alert, and mounted aides clattered up or down the 
 steep road from the Garrison to Government House. 
 
 The Baratarian militia in those days consisted of three 
 or four regiments of foot and a troop of cavalry. These had 
 done good service at the close of the last century when 
 the French were constantly trying to regain the island. 
 There exists an engraving, representing the regulars and 
 militia of the period engaged in warfare with the French 
 and their Indian allies. To the European unaccustomed 
 to exertion in the tropics, a jaunt up and down the 
 thickly-wooded sides and ravines of the Baratarian hills 
 is a serious job even when in lightest attire, and so one 
 wonders how the gallant pigtailed warriors of that time 
 when clad in tight coat and leathern stock, black chako, 
 leather breeches and gaiters, and carrying a heavy musket 
 and sixty rounds of ammunition, managed to struggle up 
 the hills to storm the strongholds of the enemy. 
 
 The history of that island war of 1795-6 is curious 
 reading. It tells of a Colonel employing the men of his 
 regiment to clear and cultivate his estate, thus affording 
 opportunity for the Indians to attack his post ; of troops 
 about to storm the encampment of the savage enemy 
 and their French allies, being seized with sudden panic 
 and beating hasty and ignominious retreat. Hand to 
 hand encounters on the steep fern-clad ridges or in the 
 thick woods that clothe the Baratarian hills were frequent. 
 Midnight attacks were made on the enemy's posts by 
 militia men and corps of liberated slaves who proved 
 themselves more apt at that kind of warfare than regular 
 
Old Baratakia. 79 
 
 troops. There were burning of planters' houses and 
 flight to the Town and Fort or on board the vessels in 
 the Bay. His Majesty's Ships of war strove with adverse 
 currents and failing winds in order to land much needed, 
 long expected reinforcements, and there were times of 
 deep despair. But at length, four thousand troops led by 
 some of Britain's bravest generals, among whom was 
 Sir Ralph Abercrombie, defeated the Caribs and French, 
 and the island had peace. Then followed general re- 
 joicings with banquets and addresses and grateful pre- 
 sentations of plate or jewelled swords. 
 
 It is difficult now a days when looking at the somewhat 
 sleepy little place, its quiet streets and dismantled fortress, 
 with an occasional trader riding at anchor in the all but 
 deserted bay, to picture the busy scene it must have 
 presented in those byegone stirring times. 
 
 An old resident, who must have been nearly 100 years 
 of age, used to talk of those days, and how she had seen 
 the men of Colonel Soandso's regiment driven " like sheep" 
 by the enemy who occupied the heights above the town, 
 and had also seen the head of the Carib Chief carried 
 in triumph through the streets. 
 
 That Chief, Chatoyer by name, had been killed in 
 single combat by a doughty major of militia. I have an 
 engraving of a picture taken from life, which repre- 
 sents Chatoyer and his five wives, He had not a very 
 martial bearing, being short and stout, and is depicted 
 as smoking a pipe with a most peaceful mien. His 
 wives are not uncomely and appear to have considered 
 that "Beauty unadorned is &c, their only garment being 
 a short petticoat, not the queya of the Guiana "Buckeen. ' 
 
8o West Indian Yarns. 
 
 They are bending under burdens carried as the Guiana 
 Caribs of to-day bear their loads, in surianas with bands 
 across their foreheads. 
 
 Hanging from Chatoyer's neck when he fell, was found 
 a silver gorget like those worn by the military officers of 
 the time, which had been given to him by Prince William 
 Henry, afterwards King William IV when serving in the 
 West Indies. 
 
 Perhaps Chatoyer's supremacy as Chief was due to 
 his astuteness rather than his martial qualities, since 
 1 Chatouer in creole patois means a racoon, a manicon, 
 or iwarry. 
 
 In after years, the Baratarian militia still existed, 
 and from some of its veterans I have learned that they 
 were still very valiant men of war though never actually 
 engaged. They wore black top hats, " beavers" as they 
 were called, with a cockade stuck on one side, and 
 armed with the brown bess of the period, they did duty 
 manfully. Mustering on the parade ground at 6 a.m., 
 they would march to opposite old John Peel's store where 
 sangaree, concocted of brown sherry or Madeira, was 
 served out — and then they proceeded to the remains of an 
 ancient fort where they went through manual and platoon 
 exercise, and fired at a target at 200 yards ; here more 
 liquid refreshment was dispensed, and then they were led 
 back to the parade, where sundry manoeuvres concluding 
 with the march-past took place, and more drink was con- 
 sumed. There was, of course, a dinner in the evening, 
 and as an ex-Colonel has informed me, there were 
 always some quarrels at night and generally one or 
 more hostile meetings in the morning. 
 
Old Barataria. 8i 
 
 A militia officer was always one of the Governor's 
 Aide-de-Camps. A dear old friend, known to many of 
 my readers, was a Lieut.-Coionel of militia and also 
 A.D.C. to a Governor of Barataria of later years, who, 
 like Sir Charles, happened to be a Naval captain. Once 
 when in London he attended the trooping of the Colours 
 at the Horse Guards on Her Majesty's birthday. I don't 
 think he had sufficient courage to don the uniform of the 
 island militia, but, however, he tried to enter an enclosure 
 reserved for military and other privileged persons, when a 
 sentry forbade him. 
 
 "But here's my card, I am Colonel X." and at this 
 juncture up came an officer — 
 
 "Colonel X.?" he asked looking at the not very military 
 figure before him, " may I ask of what Corps ?" 
 
 "I am A.D.C. to Captain T ." 
 
 "Ah well my good fellow,"' replied the officer, that 
 won't do, you haven't learned your lesson. Colonels 
 are not aides-de-Camp to Captains — shouldn't wonder if 
 you were a swell-mob's man, so I'd advise you to make 
 yourself scarce, or — Police !" 
 And our Island hero cleared out. 
 Since then the Baratarian militia was disembodied, to 
 be revived at long intervals when a Governor had military 
 proclivities or there was a scare. Once in the Islands 
 history, when neither of these reasons existed, a President 
 procured with great difficulty the enactment of a militia 
 law, and officers were appointed. These paid a handsome 
 fee for their commissions which went into the President's 
 pocket, and the enrolment having served this purpose, 
 the force was never, or at most only once called out. 
 
 L 
 
82 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 I am reminded of another militia Colonel who was 
 A D.C. to Sir Charles Crosstree. 
 
 At one time, there was no regular Government House 
 and the Governor was lodged in a hired building. On 
 one of these occasions Sir Charles gave a dance and the 
 ball room was crowded. It must have been a brave show, 
 for uniforms were plentiful and the Baratarian ladies then 
 and for many years after, were the belles of the West 
 Indies. The Governor was, I think, the originator of the 
 idea that " any fool could govern a West Indian Colony 
 with a fiddle and a ham," and we may be sure that 
 where the ham was there was also plenty with which 
 to wash it down; and so the entertainment went 
 merrily along, up to a certain point when there was an 
 ominous crack and scrunch, and amid the screams of 
 the timid, the floor at one end of the room gave way, 
 and some of the company slid down this sort of funnel 
 into the apartment below. 
 
 The Governor's A.D.C., Colonel P. of the Militia, at 
 the first sound of danger had fled from the room, and when 
 order was restored and the company had assembled in a 
 safer apartment, the Governor sent for his fugitive aide. 
 
 "Colonel P," said he in a towering rage, "I am sur- 
 prised that an officer of your rank should have been the 
 first, if not the only person, to shew signs of what I fear 
 I must describe as cowardice ; I am not sure I ought not 
 to put you under arrest, Sir !" 
 
 "Your Excellency," said Colonel P., with an un- 
 successful attempt to repress a smile, " I would advance 
 as my excuse that I repaired to the room below so as to 
 receive the ladies as they came through the floor." 
 
Old Barataria. 83 
 
 Colonel P," rejoined His Excellency after a pause, 
 "You're devilish sly, Sir, devilish sly. Your excuse 
 is accepted, Sir, and you may resume duty." 
 
 The Baratarians of those days, militia men or not, were 
 given to duelling. Once a parson, a lady of whose 
 family had been insulted or wronged, challenged the 
 offender, and as he reached the rendezvous exclaimed 
 " here goes £z°° a vear /' tnat being the amount of his 
 stipend. I do not know if he •• winged" his opponent, 
 but he resigned his living, whereupon the sympathising 
 Baratarians returned him as a member of the House of 
 Assembly, elected him speaker and raised his salary 
 as such to ^"300, and in this position, which His 
 
 Honour the Revd. very worthily filled, he lived to 
 
 the end of his days. 
 
 I remember once asking some intimate friends of mine 
 if they would allow me to bring with me on my next 
 visit, a gentleman who had recently come to the island to 
 inspect the family estates. The husband at once assented 
 
 in the usual hospitable way, but Mrs. M hesitated 
 
 for a second and then asked, " Does your friend know 
 who I am ?" 
 
 " He has of course heard of you as Mrs. M ." 
 
 "I don't mean that — well — does he know that, long, 
 long ago, my father and his fought a duel about his 
 
 mother when she was Miss . I don't know the 
 
 facts of the case nor the result, but perhaps you'd better 
 mention it to him first as he might not like to come." 
 
 I told my friend accordingly, but he said it didn't 
 
 matter ; and Mrs. M and he often met and talked 
 
 over their family histories. 
 
84 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 The island, if report tells truly, owed to this practice 
 of duelling one of its Chief Justices, whose brother, a 
 naval officer, was shot by Lord C, a captain in the navy, 
 under circumstances which were not quite in accordance 
 with the code of honour. The relatives, however, were 
 appeased by the appointment of a brother of the deceased 
 officer as Chief Justice. 
 
 The following story is told of this legal magnate, who 
 was of diminutive size and of an effeminate and finicking 
 manner. A Johnny Newcome recently arrived in the 
 island was bewailing his ignorance of " how to dance," 
 and, as an entertainment to which he had been invited 
 was close at hand, he was desirous of taking lessons. 
 
 Some joker informed him that Mr. P , who lived 
 
 on the Parade Ground, was a professor of great skill, and 
 so One morning the young man called and sent in his 
 card. He was duly received by the Chief Justice who 
 asked the object of his visit in the civillest and most 
 simpering manner, which was changed to a perfect storm 
 of bad words when His Honour found he was supposed 
 to be a dancing master. 
 
 There was a certain amount of state kept up by the 
 Governor in those days, and members of His Majesty's 
 Privy Council for the island of Barataria wore the 
 Windsor uniform at the Council Board. Military sentries 
 were posted here and there through the town, and His 
 Majesty's representative was usually attended by an A.D.C. 
 In a cellar beneath the Barataria Government House 
 there were to be seen not long ago, the remains of the 
 Governor's state coach and a Sedan chair, in which 
 latter the Governor's wife was conveyed to routs and 
 
Old Barataria. 85 
 
 balls. Of dances there appeared to be no end. 
 Sprightly damsels would ride into town from their country 
 homes with a long winded Mercury or Hamlet trotting 
 behind them holding on to the ponies" tails, and carrying 
 on their heads big Carib baskets containing the gala gear 
 for the evening. Others would come up from the leeward 
 side in canoes dug out of the trunks of the gommier tree, 
 rowed by half-a-dozen stalwart negroes ; and I have been 
 told it was a pretty sight to see a string of such craft lit 
 up with lanterns, flitting along the coast, bearing their 
 pleasure-seeking passengers to some entertainment. 
 
 The Governor had certain privileges, a house rent free, 
 and allowances for table &c, which, added to a liberal 
 income, made his post a lucrative one. There were also 
 provided suits of royal livery, scarlet and gold coats and 
 vests and breeches for some half-dozen servants, and if 
 an entertainment demanded more waiters — what was 
 easier than to borrow six of the Gaol gang and to distribute 
 between them and the regular staff the liveries aforesaid ? 
 It did not matter if half were en, regie as regards their 
 bodies, and their legs were encased in any oddments of 
 breeches, or if the other division were clad in their prison 
 shirts or even " mit noddings on," so long as their nether 
 limbs were resplendent in gold and crimson. 
 
 This employment of convicts has had its inconveniences. 
 In one far off colony, a penal settlement in the old days 
 when offenders were transported there from England, a 
 good kind-hearted Governor thought it worth while to 
 employ an interesting young and handsome forger of 
 great musical talent to instruct his daughters. There was 
 a romantic consequence, about which perhaps, the least 
 
86 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 said the better ; and in later years and in a nearer island, 
 a darkie convict who, having some gift in the art of 
 arranging flowers, was employed about the Government 
 House table, took an opportunity to go into the Governor's 
 dressing room and array himself in His Excellency's 
 Sunday best, white felt hat included, and in this garb 
 pass out at, the front gate as a coloured gentleman of 
 local distinction, getting the honour of a " present" from 
 the sentry. 
 
 The life of a Governor in the olden days was not 
 always a bed of roses. The legislature as a rule, fought 
 indiscriminately against every and anything supposed to 
 emanate from or to be recommended by the Colonial 
 Office, and debates waxed fierce. This political antagonism 
 at times resulted in the local patriots abstaining from 
 acceptance of Government House hospitality ; and many 
 a colonial Hampden thanked " his God his legs had never 
 been stretched beneath a Governor's mahogany." 
 
 Legislation was carried on in an august, not to say 
 severe manner. There was a House Assembly of twenty- 
 four elected members, subsequently reduced to nineteen, 
 and in later years wiped out altogether. The Speaker 
 and Clerk and Sergeant-at-arms were grave officials, 
 although they did not as far as I can learn, ever effect 
 the Court dress or gown worn by dignitaries elsewhere. 
 One entered the hall where the solemn conclave sate with 
 diffidence, — one's self confidence, if you happened to be 
 the Private Secretary, not being increased by wearing 
 evening dress like an undertaker or a waiter, and having 
 to present and listen to the reading of a Governor's 
 
Old Barataria. 87 
 
 message often received with withering sarcasm or ominous 
 silence. 
 
 There once was an awful scene, in which the Island 
 Constitution, for which, as Thomas Tinker, M.C.P., so 
 frequently observed, his forefathers fought and bled, was 
 sadly outraged. 
 
 As has been said before, theatres and halls of enter- 
 tainment there were none, and so concerts, dances, 
 bazaars, and exhibitions all were held in the Legislative 
 Halls, prophetically thrown into a Single Chamber for this 
 occasion, by the removal of wide and ponderous folding 
 doors. 
 
 At one time there appeared in Barataria, a Chevalier 
 de Linski. a conjurer of renown, and he exhibited in the 
 Rooms devoted to the Colonial Lords and Commons, the 
 use of which was formally granted by the President and 
 Speaker. There was a parliamentary crisis on, and 
 the Governor was to be solemnly denounced next day, 
 so de Linski was charged to have all his paraphernalia 
 removed ere the House met. Somebody ought to have 
 seen to it, but nobody did, and so when the ever punctual 
 Speaker took the chair and the members filed in some 
 minutes afterwards, they found His Honour with a back- 
 ground of gorgeous table and chairs, with mystic cups 
 and bowls and resplendent dragons and snakes &c, &c. 
 Other mortals would have laughed, but not so Baratarian 
 senators. Tom Tinker called it a breach of privilege and 
 moved the adjournment until all that d — d nonsense was 
 removed ; and then the members stalked out with their 
 noses in the air, thoroughly, bitterly disgusted. 
 
 I have seen the Sergeant-at-arms waltzing round the 
 
88 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 House embracing a member who had been by solemn 
 vote expelled, but whose superior strength made it a 
 difficult job to carry the resolution into effect. The other 
 members retained their seats around the horseshoe table, 
 mutely looking at the exhibition which might have been 
 part of some mystic ceremony at which they were 
 assisting. There were moments of excitement when one 
 or other of the pair was forced against a window sash, 
 which it was feared might give way, and cause precipitate 
 descent into the Court-yard below ; but, if I remember 
 rightly, the pair made their exit at a door, and the 
 expulsion being deemed to have been effected, the House 
 resumed debate. 
 
 The Island press, in the earlier part of the century, was 
 represented by a paper which, besides containing adver- 
 tisements, communicated to the Islanders what news of 
 the outer world was brought to Barataria by the " pacquet" 
 and other irregular sailing ships. There was little said 
 about what was going on in the place itself, and articles 
 of local interest appear to have been confined to letters 
 written by anonymous correspondents, more or less 
 sarcastic, and containing allusions, the point of which is 
 now lost to us. The one paper was conducted by a 
 gentleman named Drass, who was editor, printer and 
 publisher — managed a bank — and was a member of 
 Assembly, besides being at one time a Master in Chancery. 
 For some reason he was opposed to the Governor. Now 
 Sir Charles Crosstree was fond of running down to a 
 neighbouring island under his Government in a trim 
 yacht with a few choice friends, and holding holiday there. 
 I have heard queer yarns as to how these worthies spent 
 
Old Barataria. 89 
 
 their time on these occasions, but the frequent absence 
 caused inconvenience, and worthy Mr. Drass took delight 
 in chronicling the departure of His Excellency, adding 
 now and then bogus intelligence from the smaller island 
 as to the Governor's doings, — all of which greatly in- 
 censed Sir Charles. At length Mr. Drass's remarks and 
 articles became more frequent, and then His Excellency 
 determined that an opposition paper should be started in 
 the Government interest : so press, plant and editor were 
 all imported from Barbados and the strife began. 
 
 The paper warfare at this length of time seems stale, 
 flat and unprofitable. Of course, it has lost much *of its 
 vim through lapse of years and unfamiliarity with the 
 people and politics of the day, but one still can smile at 
 the mischievous typographical error whioh led the new 
 editor to dub his opponent always as Dr. Ass. I 
 remember these two literary warriors. One paper had 
 collapsed through a fire, and its owner continued to live 
 by the sale of stationery, while the other publication 
 struggled on as a blurred illegible print, with nothing 
 worth reading, until the editor, printer and publisher 
 gave up his literary career and took to hoisting and firing 
 the evening gun. 
 
 Official correspondence in the olden times was con- 
 ducted in a more punctilous manner than is the case in 
 these days. The paper was gold edged, and the 
 phraseology of a correspondingly extra-dignified, not to 
 say turgid, style. There were fewer despatches from the 
 Secretary of State and of these many were of a purely 
 formal character. 
 Sir Charles Crosstree received one, however, in which 
 
 M 
 
90 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 his attention was called in the most courteous terms to 
 the fact that the returns of revenue and expenditure for 
 the years 181 — , 181 — , and 181 — had never been sent 
 with a request that this omission might be repaired. 
 What Sir Charles's answer was, is unknown to the 
 historian, but a later despatch conveyed in politest words a 
 request that he would explain the coincidence — if such it 
 were — of the figures for the three years being identically 
 the same. There again Sir Charles's reply and ex- 
 planation aie lost to us. 
 
 Governors perhaps were careless in those days. One 
 has, heard of one of them being recommended to read 
 his despatches before he signed them, and to sign others 
 after he had read them, and Baratarians will remember 
 how once upon a time a Governor "in. order to save 
 trouble," used to ; sign blank warrants on the Island 
 Treasury to be filled in and countersigned by a subor- 
 dinate official, and how this practice led to serious com- 
 plications and financial trouble. 
 
 Superior officers are often obstinate. A young Private 
 Secretary once consulted me as to the best manner of 
 dealing with a President administering, whose draft des- 
 patches he had to copy, and who had d — d my young 
 friend for interfering with His Honor's views as to the 
 - etymology of the word ' which,' the President con- 
 sidering one ' h' unnecessary and a ' t' indispensable. 
 
 One custom of the old days, the " crop over," until 
 lately survived in Barataria^ The head men of a sugar 
 estate mounted on mules and arrayed in military garb, to 
 which some of " massas" old militia uniform and accoutre- 
 ments were contributed, rode round to the " great houses" 
 
Not such a Fool after all. 91 
 
 of the other plantations, bearing banners on which were 
 inscribed the name of their estate and the number of 
 hogsheads made. They were accompanied by drum and 
 triangle and there were hurrahs and complimentary 
 speeches to the " massa and missis and de young ladies 
 and dem." Drink was produced and healths drunk, and 
 then the motley troop rode off to the next house 
 followed by a small crowd of friends and admirers. 
 
 In the evening there was a dance, where quadrilles 
 were executed with much punctilio and decorum ; perhaps 
 there was more abandon in the waltzes. The dark 
 damsels were, as a rule, dressed with much taste. Some 
 favoured ones wore frocks and jewellery given and lent 
 by their young mistresses, and their partners wore evening 
 dress more or less of regulation pattern. Every one was 
 very happy and merry, and a good supper was not 
 forgotten. 
 
 But in the Islands things now are " not as they used 
 to was." The old time Governor has died out, and with 
 him much of the pomp and circumstances of his day. 
 The old time proprietor has also gone, and with him 
 have almost ceased generous hospitality and social inter- 
 course, while the kindly relations that then existed be- 
 tween employer and employed are also things of the past. 
 
 NOT SUCH A FOOL AFTER ALL. 
 
 f ¥ A,HE Honourable Thomas Noble, a member of 
 Her Majesty's Council in the Island of St. 
 Molasses, was Honourable by title, but I fear 
 
 Tom Noble or as some called him, Tom Nobble, had 
 
92 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 little other claim to the distinction. He had come to 
 some Island as a supercargo, and having been left 
 behind, obtained a place in a merchant's office, and had 
 migrated to St. Molasses. There he had " struck oil," 
 or " root," and flourished. Everything he put his hand 
 to prospered. A lame horse bought by Noble became 
 sound in a few days under his care ; the reverse often 
 happened with those he sold. If he bought a life policy 
 of some robust but impecunious fellow, the insured was 
 safe to break his neck, or get drowned or in some other 
 way become a sudden and unexpected " claim/' Estates 
 ruined and branded as " sinks" " pickpockets," once 
 they became the property of Noble, burst into profitable 
 ventures ; and at cards, — well there the Honourable Tom 
 was always lucky. He used to express his regrets at the 
 constant favour of the fickle goddess, because, said he 
 " some day they'll say I cheat." 
 
 Tom used to boast that he always paid his passage and 
 wine bill, home and out, by his cards. Night after night 
 Tom would be seen dealing in grim silence, cards to be 
 afterwards clutched slowly but surely and formed into a 
 flight of step-like tricks. Whist he preferred, but any 
 other game was welcome — and he always won. There 
 was a foreigner one evening whom Tom cleared out at 
 ecarte. Monsieur was suspected of not playing on the 
 square, and we gathered round in the hope of seeing Tom 
 conquered, even if not fairly; but we were disappointed. 
 Tom smiled now and then, but always won and at last 
 his opponent started to his feet, put his arms a kimbo, 
 and told Tom : — " Monsieur — Vous etes escroc, you are 
 a dam cheat, you robber — tief — you scr-r-roundrel ! ! !" 
 
Not such a Fool after all. 93 
 
 This was rough on Tom, but he never moved a muscle. 
 
 " Mr. Noble !" said some of us, " you hear what this 
 gentleman says. You allow such an accusation to be 
 made ? You don't resent it ?" 
 
 " Well, my friends" said the Honourable Tom, putting 
 his hands on the table, and spreading out his fingers fan 
 wise — "I ain't a going to quarrel because my friend 
 there has dropped his money, and lost his temper, and, I 
 may add, his manners. Losses is always to be borne 
 with fortitude. Besides, the gentleman is a foreigner, 
 and as he can only be imperfectly acquainted with 
 English, he probably don't know the value of the ex- 
 pressions he is using, and I give him the benefit of the 
 doubt. I will be generous. His ignorance of the 
 language of Shakespeare, Milton, and others, is to be 
 pitied, not resented like." And the Hon'ble Tom betook 
 himself to his berth. 
 
 Tom landed at Southampton, and in due course 
 pitched his tent in London at the " Bedford/' How he 
 spent his leisure time I knew not, although I often saw 
 him at that resort of West Indians. Afterwards, I heard 
 he went every Saturday to Brighton, remaining there 
 until Monday ; and somehow it leaked out he had an 
 ancient aunt, his sole relative, who kept a third or fourth- 
 rate boarding house in " London-super-Mare." 
 
 One Saturday afternoon, he was the sole occupant of a 
 first-class carriage on the L. & B. railway, and the 
 starting bell had just begun its peal, when the door 
 of the carriage was pulled open, and in jumped a young 
 man with a small travelling bag. Hardly had he by 
 means of his ulster and rug, arranged a corner with all 
 
94 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 the skill of a frequent traveller, than the train was in 
 motion. 
 
 I don't know how the conversation begun or by what 
 topics it was sustained, but Tom and his companion had 
 a very agreeable time. Mr. Darville was deeply interested 
 in the West Indies. Sugar was one of the things he had 
 dabbled in. His yacht, it is true, had never yet borne 
 him so far westward, but he was glad to learn from a 
 person of experience all about scenery and accommodation, 
 &c, &c, in case he did visit those gems of the ocean, 
 the West Indian Isles, and the description of a West 
 Indian planter's life, the cost of sugar and rum, the 
 modes of preparation, and the best markets &c. in- 
 terested him. On all these subjects Darville was as 
 eager an enquirer as Tom was a proud and voluble 
 authority, nor was Mr. Noble backward in telling of his 
 estates and the balance at his merchant's. It seemed 
 therefore only in the fitness of things that Darville should 
 with some hesitation tell the Honourable Tom that he 
 regretted, "if so agreeable an hour were not to be the 
 prelude to a longer acquaintance. He, Darville, was 
 
 living in Brighton and if Mr. he begged pardon as 
 
 he glanced at Tom's card — "the Hon'ble Mr. Noble 
 would forgive the abruptness of an invitation for which 
 however the charm of Mr. Noble's conversation must be 
 his excuse, and would dine with him that evening at 
 seven sharp, at No. — Square, he would be delighted. 
 Of course Mr. Noble would overlook the apparent liberty 
 he, so much his junior, took in presuming," &c. — but he 
 need not ha\e said so much. Mr. Noble was only too 
 happy, and at the station they parted to meet at a later 
 hour. 
 
Not such a Fool after all. 95 
 
 Mr. Noble was punctual to the minute, and his fly 
 drew up at the door of one of the best houses in Brighton. 
 A soberly-clad footman opened the door, relieved our 
 friend of his wraps, and ushered him into an elegant 
 drawing room, where he was greeted by his young host, 
 and by him introduced to a group of what he would have 
 called ' swells.' Dinner was announced, and rarely, if 
 ever, had Tom had such a 'feed.' The turtle might 
 have been the work of a Creole adept, milk punch was 
 the right corrective; the fish, though in Tom's estima- 
 tion, scarcely equal to flying fish or querriman, was first- 
 rate, and the good things that followed, excellent. Noble 
 had never met with such an assortment of wines ; he 
 drank of each and every kind, and wound up with a 
 glass of Chartreuse that he openly and loudly declared 
 " beat shrub to fits." 
 
 Dinner over, the party adjourned to the drawing room, 
 and Mr. Darville, opening one of Erard's * grands,' re- 
 gretted his wife was from home, but, did anybody, — 
 would anybody like a little music ? — but everyone shook 
 his head, and as a substitute for music Darville suggested 
 a quiet rubber. Noble, as he assented, looked like the 
 war-horse scenting battle; and in less than no time he 
 made a fourth. 
 
 When the "terms of business" were stated to be 
 guinea points and a fiver on the rub, the Hon'ble Tom 
 shuddered a little, but assented in a brave tone, and 
 rushed into the fray. He had, however, met his more 
 than equals, and Tom lost and lost. Once or twice he 
 was sorely tempted, as he afterwards confessed, to "shew 
 them a thing or two;" but he dared not. He took 
 
96 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 refreshers of B. & S. to clear his brain, and screw up his 
 nerves; but all in vain. At midnight on Saturday — in 
 St. Molasses, we are a pious people and don't like 
 breaking the Sabbath, — Noble rose, and, pleading that it 
 was Sunday, declined to play any more. 
 
 "Mr. Darville," said he, "I have dropped some 
 money, and I confess I did not come prepared to play, 
 or we'll say, to lose so much. " Will you kindly arrange 
 matters for me with your friends and let me be your 
 debtor?" 
 
 Certainly, my dear Sir," said Darville, "let's have a 
 settling. "You owe me — so much, and Captain Jinks 
 so much — exactly — well, in all I make it ^175. Is that 
 right?" 
 
 " Yes," said Noble, " it's correct I suppose — I had no 
 idea, but never mind, if you'll settle for me. Gentlemen, 
 Mr. Darville will square everything, wont you, Dar- 
 ville?" 
 
 "Don't trouble yourself about that," said the host, 
 and the other gentlemen gave their assent. 
 
 "And" said Noble, holding Darville by the coat, " I'll 
 send you a bill at ninety — no, I mean an order on my 
 merchants for what d'ye say? £175. Well, that's let me 
 see, 480 and 360, is 840 now? Check me, Darville, let's 
 have no mistake." 
 
 " I don't understand, Mr. Noble— 840 ?" 
 
 " Well, that's dollars. I always work in dollars. All 
 right, you'll have it to-morrow, but that's Sunday and I 
 never — however 111 go now I think ; I suppose my buggy, 
 — I mean fly is at the door. Thanks for a most 'greeable 
 evening." 
 
Not such a Fool after all. 97 
 
 " Mr. Noble," said Darville, " as we are comparatively 
 
 strangers it would be as well You would not object, 
 
 I am sure, to give me an acknowledgment for the £175 
 I am about to pay for you." 
 
 " Give you anything, my dear fellow, a note you 
 mean, a promissory note ; of course only here you always 
 use a stamp, don't you ? In St. Molasses we've not got so 
 far civilized as that." 
 
 "Of course" said Darville, "You're right. Without 
 the stamp it would not be a valid instrument — but now I 
 think of it, I believe I have a stamped note. Excuse me 
 for a moment." 
 
 The cab was at the door and Noble was in his top 
 coat, the latter conversation had taken place in the hall. 
 Noble felt tempted to bolt, but the serious footman looked 
 likely to stop any such game, and so, while he hesitated, 
 his host returned with an oblong slip of stamped paper, 
 pen and ink. 
 
 1 ■ Ah," said Noble cheerfully, H that's right, I do like to 
 see business ways even in trifles, there" said he writing, 
 " what's your christian name ? Theodore — pretty name — 
 and payable at what bank ? — London, Joint Stock — good ' 
 bank that — there — one hundred and seventy-five — and 
 there's my name," and Noble blotted it and put it 
 in Darville's hand, which he affectionately wrung and 
 then went to his cab. 
 
 " Good night ! Darville, many thanks — bye, bye !" 
 
 " Good night" said his host "au revoir." 
 
 Some days after, Noble was chaffed at the Bedford 
 about his having been rooked by the "Darville Gang," 
 and he was told how he had fallen into the hands of 
 some of the most notorious card sharpers in England. 
 
 N 
 
98 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 M Hit hard P said one man, " I hear a thousand — eh ? 
 
 " And gave them your note of hand ? Why St. 
 Molasses will hear of it, and you will have a nice time 
 when you go out, Noble." 
 
 "Ah, well," said the Honourable Tom, when there 
 was a pause — I didn't do so bad — I got a good dinner 
 and a skin full of wine, besides picking up an idea or two 
 of what a smart chap can do with pasteboard." 
 
 " Yes," said somebody, " but dearly bought, eh ?*' 
 
 " I don't know that. I did not have any money with 
 me, and gave my note of hand — it's true." 
 
 " On which they'll sue you." 
 
 " Scarcely," said the Honourable Tom, with a modest 
 smile, scarcely, I have had some little experience of 
 the Law, and I took the liberty of putting, instead of 
 'for value received,' for money lost at play at one 
 sitting* I don't think they'll sue on that." 
 
 And the Honourable Tom winked at us collectively. 
 
 FAITHFUL NEGROES. 
 
 THE Carnegies of St. Maria were an old West 
 Indian family descended from one of Prince 
 Charles's adherents, who, in 1741, sought an 
 asylum in the loveliest Island of the Antilles. Here he 
 married the daughter of an old French Count and 
 Colonist, and so became the head of the family, of which 
 my friend, Archie Carnegie, when I lived in St. Maria, 
 was the representative. Couronne cTor for many years 
 had been a prosperous property. In the earlier days, its 
 mixed cultivation produced a variety of exports hardly 
 
Faithful Negroes. 99 
 
 now to be seen in the islands where a few plants growing 
 wild, and ruined mason work are all that remain of what 
 were once flourishing industries. Coffee, Cotton, Tobacco, 
 (in one shop in London they tell me, is still to be seen an 
 old time-worn notice "St. Maria tobacco sold here," 
 though St. Maria has not exported an ounce for many 
 years,) Annatto, Indigo — all these preceded sugar culti- 
 vation and brought in wealth to the producers ; then they 
 gave place to the Cane, and we all know the history of 
 Sugar in the smaller islands ; the crops at first so re- 
 munerative as to render each estate a gold mine sufficient 
 to bear the extravagancies of two generations; then 
 emancipation came, then the equalization of the sugar 
 duties, then, to many, ruin; and in his case, Archie, 
 who had helped his old father to struggle against the 
 difficulties which these brought about, one day found 
 himself alone, and the owner of a property heavily encum- 
 bered and all but valueless as a plantation. 
 
 The Carnegies had tried all manner of shifts to keep 
 afloat ; cane pieces had been given out to villagers who 
 were to cultivate them, and the Carnegies undertook to 
 take off the crop for a half or a third ; but after the first 
 reaping the people would not weed, and could not afford 
 to manure the ratoons, and there resulted a return so 
 poor as to dishearten both landlord and tenant. Then 
 the lands were leased out, but when pay-day came rents 
 were unpaid; some were remitted, and when recourse 
 was had to the Magistrate's Court, the bulk of the 
 labourers took themselves off to an adjoining estate, 
 abandoned and unclaimed for years, where they squatted, 
 rent free. 
 
ioo West Indian Yarns. 
 
 The works (" buildings" we should call them in British 
 Guiana) became ruinous and over-grown with bush. The 
 large iron water wheel, which one prosperous year tempted 
 the Carnegies to import, was red with rust, and in its buckets 
 grew weeds and grass. The roof had fallen in at one 
 spot, and the tiles had been removed from another. The 
 chimney, so tall that it was a land-mark to passing 
 vessels, was rent, and at its top grew a fig tree, as signi- 
 ficant as a broom at a ship's mast-head. The machinery 
 was ruined of course, and any one who wandered through 
 the grass -choked mill-yard ran a risk of being tripped up 
 by old rollers, wheels, cart tires, and such like odds and 
 ends, rusting and decaying amid the general ruin. 
 
 Nor was the " great house" or mansion in much better 
 order. The stone wall which enclosed two sides of its 
 garden was undermined and tottering; here and there 
 stones had fallen out leaving gaps temporarily stopped 
 with branches lopped from the neighbouring trees. The 
 old roof was grey and moss-grown. Some of the windows 
 were boarded up for lack of glass sashes. The pavement 
 leading to the steps, the steps themselves and gallery 
 floor, were all of marble tiles, but some were broken, some 
 missing, and others upraised by plants struggling through 
 the crevices, the trees and ornamental bushes once 
 so neat and trim, had grown into huge masses of foliage 
 that kept the place dark and damp, a few plants, roses 
 and jasmine and allamandas, still clung to the walls like 
 old friends faithful in adversity, and in the shattered 
 basin of a fountain was a stone Cupid that looked most 
 woe begone when the rain drops trickled tearlike down 
 each side of a green and pointless nose. The interior 
 
Faith Fiji/ Negroes. ioi 
 
 was when I knew it, dark and dreary, tke walls and floor 
 of native wood were almost black, the furniture old- 
 fashioned and out of repair. A couple of mildewed 
 mirrors in tarnished frames reflected the gloomy drawing 
 room and " hall/' and the portraits of some dozen dead- 
 and-gone Carnegies and La Tours seemed to gaze sadly 
 on what remained of their once luxurious home. Carnegie 
 had married, but his wife died leaving a boy four years 
 old, whose aunts had taken to them in Scotland. Of 
 course, it was the best for the child as Carnegie would 
 say, but his eyes grew moist and his face the sadder 
 whenever he spoke of his little son so far away. 
 
 " Poor little beggar, who knows, but one day he may 
 come into the * title !' " he would often say with a smile. 
 This title was a peerage which had been lately revived in 
 favour of a cousin of Carnegie's, but my friend never 
 referred to it except in jest. 
 
 At last the crisis came. A claim held by the govern- 
 ment had been overdue for years, and there came in- 
 structions for its recovery. There was no dispute, no 
 litigation, and the day arrived when Carnegie had to be 
 ' evicted.' It was thought only kind to have the formal 
 notice served by a friend, and I as Carnegie's neighbour, 
 was asked to undertake the task. It was not a pleasant 
 one, and as I approached Couronne d'or I wished the 
 duty had fallen on some one else, but the unpleasant- 
 ness was lessened when Carnegie met me at the foot of 
 the steps, and placing his hands in mine, said " Better, 
 old fellow, from you than from a stranger ; I know your 
 errand. You see I don't resist, although half the village 
 and all the old people from the negro-yard are up here 
 
102 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 half inclined to defend the house. Come in, 'tis the last 
 time I shall have the right to say so to you." 
 
 " I hope Carnegie" said I, " you may be able before 
 the day of sale to make some arrangements." 
 
 " You say" replied he, " what you know cannot be. 
 I am penniless, worse than penniless, and only wonder 
 why the men I owe have not been down on me already ; 
 but come, let us get it over, this I suppose is your 
 authority ;" and he pointed to a paper which peeped out 
 of my breast pocket. " Out with it, and I surrender 
 possession to you." 
 
 "All right," I replied, grasping his hand, "that's 
 sufficient." 
 
 "I shall have to sell the old sticks," said Carnegie, 
 smiling sadly on the contents of the room. " It would 
 not be honest to take any of them, and these old things, 
 these portraits on the wall that I can remember as long 
 as I can remember myself, will have to go to people who 
 wont value them — ah, well ? sic transit,' 1 
 
 " You'll come over to me to-night, Carnegie, my wife 
 expects you," I said. 
 
 " Thanks — yes, I will come — I wonder — " 
 
 He was standing in a doorway that led to a little 
 boudoir off the drawing room. It had been built, he 
 told me, for his mother and had been his wife's pet room 
 during her short life. It had been a bright little corner, 
 though the paper hangings now were tarnished, and the 
 paint had lost colour. The posts at the entrance were 
 coloured white with a little fantastic gold border running 
 up each side, and on one of them could be seen what is 
 common enough in old houses in the islands,— marks 
 
Faithful Negroes. 
 
 103 
 
 shewing the height of persons whose names or initials, 
 with a date, were written against each. 
 
 "I wonder" said Carnegie, looking at this record, 
 " if I might have this — have it taken off the post I mean, 
 to keep." 
 
 " I dare say you can," I replied, " I'll ask for you." 
 " Thanks. It is the only record I have of many who 
 were dear to me, and are now gone. See, here's my father's 
 name, and a date, 18 — , a good height, six feet one — 
 none over-topped him — and here's my dear mother's 
 name written by him ever so far below ; that's my sister's, 
 and that is" — but here Carnegie turned away and some 
 tears dimmed his eyes. " Come," said he, " I must not 
 make a fool of myself." 
 
 As he spoke, we walked out to the verandah at the rear 
 of the house, and there were collected numbers of the 
 people from the village and estate. As they saw me, some 
 uncomplimentary remarks reached my ear, but Carnegie at 
 once explained that it was a kindness I had done, that as 
 the duty of taking possession of the estate had to be per- 
 formed, it was the less painful when performed by a 
 friend. 
 
 " Look here, Jimbo La Tour," he called out to a big, 
 burly negro, who was shaking his head in a very uncon- 
 vinced manner, " S'pose you dead, it no better for you 
 buddy fo' shut you yie and put you in you coffin dan 
 somebody you don't know, and don't know you and your 
 famberly ?" 
 
 Carnegie always spoke to his hands in broken English ; 
 he used to say " It's easier to learn their lingo than to 
 teach them ours." His argument tickled Jimbo, who 
 
104 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 laughed, as did a good many others, and then arose a 
 shout of "Dat fo' true Mass Archie!" And then Mass 
 Archie made a great speech interrupted by ejaculations 
 from his hearers, which showed that they were grieved at 
 losing their M old massa." He told them that he did not 
 know what he should do, that he should probably go 
 home, but that he should never forgot his old friends of 
 Couronne d'or ; and then they swarmed up the steps to 
 bid him goodbye and have a farewell shake of the hand. 
 It was a touching sight. 
 
 Here in British Guiana there is not and probably never 
 was anything of the old clan-like feeling which in the 
 Islands bound the negroes on the estate to their em- 
 ployer. Even within late years, such existed in St. Maria. 
 The old people were not ungrateful; many an act of 
 kindness from the " missis" or the " massa — "tender care in 
 sickness — sympathy in trouble — participation in a wedding 
 or christening when there would be contributions of a dress 
 ftom the " missis," a guinea or doubloon from the 
 " massa," or substantial contribution to the feast, — all 
 were little matters that more closely knit together employer 
 and employed, and they never forgot what was due to 
 each other. The Carnegies had been good masters, so that 
 to leave them or be left by them for a new, and perhaps 
 an unkinder, fate was a serious matter to the Couronne 
 d'or negroes. 
 
 Carnegie was not unmoved, and at length he whispered 
 " I can't stand this, I'm off to your house," and he left. 
 When he had gone the little crowd dissolved, and only a 
 small group remained and they came up to me. 
 
Faithful Negroes. 105 
 
 " Massa — What we hear is true dat Mass Archie fo'ce 
 for leave Crondor ?" 
 
 " Yes, my friends, it is so." 
 
 " He no able to buy em back ?" asked Mr. Jimbo. 
 "I fear not," said I. "You see, old Mr. Carnegie 
 borrow money from the Queen, and now she want she 
 money back," I continued, relapsing into the Island 
 patois. 
 
 Then there was a consultation and several sable heads 
 came together. 
 
 "Massa!" at length, asked Jimbo, " S'pose de Queen, 
 and de Gubnor and dem, sell Crondor, what he go 
 bring ?" 
 
 " I cannot say. The place will not fetch near what it 
 owes." 
 
 " Massa ! me hearee Mass Archie say he no care for the 
 estate, but he want fo' keep de house and de little French 
 chapel and bury in' groun' where de ole buckra La Tour 
 and Carnegie been bury, but he ho hable for buy em. 
 You tink he hable tor tro' in some ?" 
 
 " Really, Jimbo", I do not think Mr. Carnegie has any 
 money ; but come, tell me what you mean." 
 
 "Well, Massa," began Jimbo La Tour, " but 'top ; come 
 here !" and he and a half dozen other old negroes led 
 me a few yards apart. 
 
 " Massa," he continued, " you see we ole Latour and 
 Carnegie people, we barn here, we lib here, and we look 
 for die in dis same Crondor. We 'member Mass Archie 
 long ago, when he one small pickney, and he fader befo', 
 and he moder. Eh ! she been one blessed missis to a' we, 
 and so we sorry fo true he fo'ce fo gib up de place, so 
 
 o 
 
106 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 Mr. Harklees (Hercules) and Scipio, and Romeo, and 
 Pompey say we save little bit money, 'spose Massa 
 Archie hab little bit, we all tro' up and make big money, 
 and we buy Crondor ; den Mass Archie he keep de big 
 house and de chutch and de buryin' groun, and de rest 
 of a'we de estate." 
 
 I thought it a good plan and said so, and then it 
 occurred to me that Carnegie could find perhaps his 
 quota. I told Jimbo what I thought of the proposal, and 
 thanked him, and mounting my horse, I left; but Jimbo 
 running after me called to me to stop and begged me 
 "no say nuffin to Mass Archie till you quite sure 
 he got de money becasin 'spose we no buy Crondor he 
 too sorry." 
 
 A friend of Carnegie to whom I mentioned in con- 
 fidence the project of Jimbo, agreed to supply Carnegie's 
 proportion of the purchase money on very easy terms, 
 and my friends the labourers placed in my hands a sum 
 sufficient to buy the property. It was duly exposed for 
 sale, and was knocked down to me for a sum even less 
 than I had anticipated. 
 
 In small communities petty suspicions are always rife, 
 and people who were not in the secret, made nasty remarks 
 about my buying up my friend. Carnegie too seemed 
 hurt, but I asked him to give me an opportunity for 
 explanation. 
 
 Well, one fine day, I and a friend got Carnegie to 
 revisit his old home on the pretence of installing me so 
 as to prevent all doubt of the legality of the sale. With 
 much reluctance he came ; and in the old drawing-room 
 round which still hung the old portraits — for friends had 
 
Pastoral Attentions. 107 
 
 bought but would not remove them — I, with Jimbo and 
 the Couronne (Tor negroes who had helped keep the 
 u big house" in Carnegie's hands, gave my old friend a 
 sub-conveyance of the homestead and its chapel, &c, in 
 trust for his infant son. Need I say that Carnegie was 
 taken aback and was overcome, his emotion was but 
 natural. 
 
 Blessings, like troubles, do not come singly. Shortly 
 after, on the death of his cousin, the title and a small 
 Scottish estate devolved on Archie. In his castle, — for he 
 lives in a real old Border keep, — he has a long strip of 
 white wood framed and glazed, which I recognized as the 
 casing of the post at Couronne dor he so much treasured. 
 He came out to St. Maria not along ago with his son, 
 now a soldier, and I had the happiness of seeing him 
 welcomed home by old Jimbo and a few other of the 
 Couronne d'or people ; there was a big feast and a jolli- 
 fication. I lived in the house at Carnegie's request, till I 
 left St. Maria ; it is still however kept up, in memorial, 
 as^Carnegie says, of the fidelity and affection of his old 
 servants. 
 
 PASTORAL ATTENTIONS. 
 
 A neatly made, neatly dressed little man, not at all 
 likely to blossom into a Rector, still less into a 
 Dean or other dignitary. His black curly hair 
 was parted precisely in the centre, and his moustache 
 and beard were trim, his hands long and white ; his eyes 
 were dark and lustrous, but they usually were down-cast 
 
io8 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 in a manner which some said was shy, and others des- 
 cribed as sly. But the Revd. Simon Chasuble was wel- 
 come to us in a remote parish in St. Maria, where we had 
 
 borne for some months with the Revd. , but never 
 
 mind him. 
 
 Chasuble had come out from home and we all were 
 gratified at having a curate who, apparently, would have 
 been an ornament to any English parish. We wondered 
 why he came, until he told us he felt it his duty, and that 
 his lungs were not strong, and English winters all but 
 fatal to him. 
 
 One night when he had been with us a few months, I 
 met him at dinner at Charlie Anson's. Anson was a 
 magistrate and a wonderfully cool hand. He always im- 
 pressed on other fellows that it was bad style to make a 
 fuss, " kick up a row" in short, over any matter capable 
 of quiet settlement. Still more did he always deprecate 
 any scandal about one's women-kind, and he used to tell 
 with great gusto, how once in England at a County ball, 
 a stranger observed to him what a capital dancer Mrs. 
 Anson, " that little woman in pink," was, and how 
 awfully pretty too, and then what a pity it was she was 
 such a flirt ; and how he informed the stranger that Mrs. 
 Anson did dance well, and was pretty, and that she was 
 a flirt before he married her, and he didn't object to it ; 
 did the stranger? 
 
 Anson would say, "I admire that fellow in Balzac's 
 novel, who when he had reason to believe another fellow 
 was secreted in a cupboard in his wife's boudoir, though 
 she declared he was not, coolly ordered in a mason and 
 and had the chap bricked in, d'ye see, and smoked a 
 
Pastoral Attentions. 109 
 
 cigar all the time, while Madame got whiter and whiter. 
 The man died of course, but there was no beastly row 
 about it." 
 
 On the night I refer to, I sat on Mrs. Anson's right 
 and the new Curate on her left. He was awfully at- 
 tentive and kept on mumbling something to her and she 
 changed colour from time to time. Poor I had no 
 chance of speaking to the lady, and so had to listen to a 
 wonderful discourse on rainfall from my neighbour, a 
 thin old planter, who was great on meteorology. 
 
 Presently Mrs. Anson made a movement, she had 
 dropped a ring, and in a moment Chasuble was on his 
 knees searching for it. Just before he re-appeared above 
 the table, Mrs. Anston started, and a vexed look flitted 
 across her face ; however, she thanked Chasuble and all 
 went on smoothly after. Dinner over, the ladies and 
 gentlemen rose together and we men adjourned to the 
 verandah. 
 
 Mrs. Anson said a whispered word or two to her 
 husband, and he sauntered up to Chasuble who was near 
 me, and we three wandered to the end of the gallery. 
 "Have a cigar, Chasuble ? Try one ; I think you'll say it 
 is first rate ;" and we all lit up. 
 
 "Awfully glad to see you, Chasuble" said Anson. 
 " So good of an English fellow like you, to leave your 
 books and come up to enliven us. You must find all us 
 Colonials so wanting in much of which London men are 
 full ; hope you'll come again." 
 
 " Thanks, very much," said Chasuble. "I have spent 
 a very pleasant evening, and I have to thank you and 
 Mrs. Anson -" 
 
no West Indian Yarns. 
 
 "Ah, that reminds me," interrupted Charlie; "Mrs. 
 Anson is rather peculiar you know, of course I don't 
 mind telling you she has different tastes and fancies to 
 the women you've mixed with. Out here, one's wife 
 doesn't have advantages and so doesn't fall in with the 
 ways of a more fashionable world. But Mrs. Anson, — 
 you won't mind my saying so — does not quite like, (as 
 for me I don't mind a button you know,) but she doesn't 
 like a fellow making eyes at her, and, if she drops her 
 ring or handkerchief, taking the opportunity to kiss her 
 hand ; and now there's your pony, but have a B. & S. 
 before you go. No ? Well, good night." 
 
 The Revd. Chasuble left rather suddenly but silently, 
 and we rarely saw him again, till, the climate disagreeing 
 with him, he went home. 
 
 A ROMANCE OF BAR ATARI A. 
 
 THE Lieut.-Governor of Barataria whose health 
 had begun to suffer from a prolonged resi- 
 dence of twenty-six months and five days in 
 the tropics, went to England on leave. There were 
 people who said he hurried home so as to apply in person 
 for the government of some larger colony which afforded 
 better pay, but however this might be, the day of his 
 departure arrived. The steamer's boat lay waiting with 
 the mails, and His Excellency, accompanied by a small 
 knot of officials in their Sunday clothes, walked down 
 towards the place of embarkation. The twenty-four 
 policemen whose pleasing duty it was to guard the island 
 from foes domestic or foreign, were there drawn up in 
 
A Romance of Barataria. hi 
 
 line, entrusted on this occasion with muskets and fixed 
 bayonets. They also wore boots, and had donned the 
 tunics served out three years before, and which, with the 
 boots, were only worn on solemn or festive days. The 
 Inspector General's scabbard clinked and clanked as he 
 passed up and down before his men. The drummer (there 
 was much more drum than drummer) and the bugler, who 
 was so tall that when he blew his bugle, it was always 
 some seconds before the wind found its way up from its 
 reservoir to the mouth-piece, were painfully on the alert. 
 The crowd — it was a serious draft on the population of 
 Barataria's metropolis to make a crowd — was calm but 
 evidently impressed with the spectacle. At last at a 
 signal from a ragged boy at the corner of the street, the 
 Inspector waving his sword shouted " 'Shun !" so very 
 suddenly and vigorously, that No. 3 — he was from a 
 remote country district and nervous — dropped his firelock 
 with a clatter ; but this accident was repaired before the 
 word to " shuller rums" was given, and cautiously and 
 deliberately obeyed. A few minutes more, and the 
 Governor appeared on the scene, and as he nearly reached 
 the right hand man — " 'Sent rums" shouted the " Gen- 
 eral," and up and down went the glittering bayonets in a 
 way that would have dismayed an enemy ; indeed, on 
 approaching No. 3, the Governor promptly took ground 
 to his right, for that warrior appeared about to " resist 
 cavalry/' The drummer and bugler — I had nearly for- 
 gotten them — beat and blew a wild melody that nowadays 
 might have been mistaken for a bit of "Lohengrin,* 
 while the crowd cheered with excitement and the Police 
 " shullered rums" once more. 
 
1X2 1 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 At Barataria there are or were, on the crest of the hill 
 that formed a background to the town, some old decaying 
 fortifications from which a dozen or two guns of great 
 size but doubtful strength poked their mouths. Old 
 Sergt. Flinders, who had been at Waterloo in the artillery, 
 and whose duty it was to hoist signals, had routed out 
 some powder from the stores and having dried it, had 
 loaded the most trustworthy of the pieces, so that to add 
 to the delirium of the populace there was a salute, not 
 perfection perhaps, for as the guns had been loaded over 
 night, and the damp had affected some charges, so there 
 were gaps and intervals ; still the half-dozen bangs out of 
 the regulation thirteen were uproariously received, and 
 Flinders was declared to have done very well " con- 
 sidering." 
 
 But the parting at last came, there was a great shaking 
 of hands and a small chorus of sincere wishes for better 
 health. " Hope to see you back again," " Sorry to lose 
 you, Sir," said the by-standers as ihe Lieut.-Governor 
 stepped into the boat with a general wave of the hand 
 and a jocose warning to one prominent personage to " take 
 care of Barataria, Mr. President, till I return." This so 
 completely conquered Mr. President Brown, that although 
 he had lately been a stern political opponent of the Gover- 
 nor in the matter of an additional tax on salt-fish in which 
 article Mr. Brown principally dealt, the Honourable 
 Benjamin took off his hat once more, and in return 
 called out, " Thank you, Sir ; God bless you," and then 
 wiped his face, and his eyes too, with a large old- 
 fashioned bandanna. 
 
 The boat made its way to. the steamer with the Lieut.- 
 
A Romance of Barataru. 113 
 
 Governor, who, as if he were an extraditioned offender, 
 was accompanied by the Inspector; and then there was 
 a consultation among the officials, in which Mr. Brown, 
 standing apart and flopping his handkerchief at minute 
 intervals towards the receding boat, took no part. Presently, 
 after much whispering and glances at Mr. Brown, the con- 
 clave broke up, and one of the party, a shriveled old 
 gentleman in a coat of bye-gone fashion, with a big shirt 
 frill, and a huge wisp of muslin for cravat, approached 
 the worthy president, who appeared to be most intent on 
 waving his handkerchief gracefully. 
 
 " Your Honour !" said Mr. Sneezley, who was Colonial 
 Secretary, Registrar of the Courts, Notary Public, and a 
 host of other things, besides the holder of a Colonel's 
 Commission in a defunct, or at least dormant, militia, 
 "Your Honour!" 
 
 "Mr. Colonial Secretary!" replied Mr. Brown, lifting 
 his hat as Mr. Sneezley removed his. 
 
 " Your Honour," continued Mr. Sneezley, " I venture 
 to approach you in order that I may learn Your Honour's 
 commands as to the hour and place at which you will be 
 sworn in," and Mr. Sneezley dTew himself up and paused 
 for a reply. 
 
 " Any time that may be agreeable to yourself and the 
 other Honourable members of the Council will suit me, 
 Mr. Secretary." 
 
 " Then I am commissioned to suggest the Court 
 House at 12 to-morrow." 
 
 *'I shall not fail to be there. Good afternoon, Mr. 
 Colonial Secretary," and the President's bow was most 
 gracious. 
 
 P 
 
1 14 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 " Your Honour's obedient servant," said Mr. Sneezley, 
 and he bent like a mandarin, and slowly withdrew. 
 
 There was a queer look in Mr. Sneezley's eyes, and he 
 bit his lip, while the President buried his features in his 
 handkerchief, for they felt very much like what Thackeray 
 supposed modern Heralds must feel when they meet. 
 They both no doubt considered that there was a certain 
 amount of humbug in all this deference and hauteur be- 
 tween two old cronies, who that very morning had slapped 
 each other on the back, exchanged snuff-boxes, and 
 stood sangarees to each other ; but still etiquette was not 
 to be disregarded, certainly not in those good old times. 
 
 Mr. Sneezley rejoined his companions and the In- 
 spector General having landed, sent his men home under 
 charge of a sergeant and then hitched up his sword. The 
 others looked at one another and winked, and then with 
 one accord they all made for the hotel, a shabby wooden 
 edifice crowned by a rickety staff from which was hoisted 
 a red ensign. Miss Fan, as the old mulatto lady who 
 presided over the establishment was called, happened to 
 be at the door as they entered. President Brown followed, 
 but at a distance, in the same direction. A shade, 
 several shades, of care were on his brow, and he lent 
 heavily on his closed umbrella as he plodded along. 
 Once or twice he returned the salute of passing friends, 
 and as he neared the hotel he made a step towards its 
 door, but happily restrained himself in time, as 
 he reflected that what was possible to Ben Brown, 
 would, in a President, be infra dig. It was still warm, 
 and alter the exciting events of the day, a sangaree would 
 have been excusable under other circumstances, but 
 
A Romance of Barataria. 115 
 
 " No" said the President to himself, as summoning his 
 resolution, he continued his solemn walk towards his 
 house, " No ! position has its drawbacks, and here's one 
 of them." He however cast his eyes surreptitiously to the 
 window and detected Sneezley and the others peeping 
 out at him. " Ben Brown," they would have asked to 
 join them, but His Honour President Brown, — it could 
 not be thought of. Indeed, as it was, their glances met 
 those of their now superior, and half ashamed at being 
 detected, they retreated to their table, while His Honour 
 sighing, strode homewards. , 
 
 Nothing further occurred, save that a hireling negro 
 boy, employed in a recently started opposition store, 
 rudely yelled out, " Hi ! wha dis', dey make ole sa' fish, 
 Gubnor ! hi ! wha' next ?" but Mr. Brown was not dis- 
 composed, and in a few moments he entered his door 
 which was opened by Mrs. Brown, who, flinging her arms 
 around her husband's neck, to the disarrangement of his 
 hat, saluted him with a warm kiss and a hearty "Wel- 
 come ! Mr. President, welcome ! my dear Ben," and 
 His Honour did not think it derogatory to return the 
 salute, with a hearty " Bless you, my Bess." 
 
 Old Benjamin Brown had come to Barataria some 
 years before the time of which we speak, in a humble 
 position, and by degrees had improved his fortunes, until 
 at length he had set up in business as general merchant. 
 Being active and of good repute, he soon found corres- 
 pondents, and was in a very flourishing condition ; in 
 fact, Ben Brown was reported to be rt warm" — " worth a 
 plum," &c. 
 
 He had married at the outset of his career, a young 
 
Ii6 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 Creole whose face, together with an affectionate heart and 
 a store of good common sense, was her only fortune. Ben 
 Brown and Bessie, his wife, had gone through the world 
 hand in hand, and the one owed much of his success to 
 the other's shrewdness. There was, however, one, shall 
 we say — weak — point in the wife's character, and that 
 was an implicit belief in Ben's superiority to all his friends 
 and fellows, and a tendency to assert this on all occasions. 
 They had one child, a daughter of eighteen, whose 
 charms had turned the heads of the young male Bara- 
 tarians. Whenever Norah Brown, clad in a well fitting 
 habit, with a saucy little hat, from beneath which her brown 
 curls always would escape in a most enchanting fashion, 
 rode down the bay where all the stores were, business 
 was suspended ; clerks perched on the top of piles of 
 lumber, stood spell-bound with foot rule in hand ; 
 clerks in their shirt sleeves, up to that moment most 
 eloquent on the qualities of the herrings or cod-fish they 
 were inducing some customer to buy, were suddenly 
 dumb ; young Osnaburg, the Adonis of the retail dry 
 goods store (just started to the prejudice of the peddling 
 interest, until then the only means of purveying such 
 wares to the public and gentry,) on one such occasion, 
 being lost in admiration, nearly poked out a customer's 
 eye with his yard stick ; clerks, stuck as it were, midway 
 up long ladders of figures, lost their heads, and had to 
 begin at the foot again ; in short, Norah Brown's presence 
 was always a serious, if only a temporary interruption to 
 business. There was some excuse for it, for although 
 pretty faces were not scarce in Barataria, Norah's eclipsed 
 them all. Her dark blue eyes and winsome features were 
 
A Romance of Barataria. 117 
 
 not to be matched, and she was known to be as honest 
 and good as she was fair. 
 
 Mrs. Brown had for some days known of the honour 
 that awaited her husband, and indeed, from the day when 
 his being nominated a member of His Majesty's Legis- 
 lative Council of the island of Barataria gave her pre- 
 cedence over a good many dames of the landed aristo- 
 cracy, who had turned up their noses at Mrs. Brown's 
 social position as the wife of a mere merchant, — from 
 that day, she had looked forward to the occasion when 
 her Ben would be at the top of the tree, and she, of 
 course, perched beside him. 
 
 And this was very pardonable, for Barataria was her 
 native place, and her home which she had never quitted, 
 and in those days with a resident gentry, some of whom 
 whether planters or merchants, had sprung from good old 
 families over the water, while others were descended from 
 Creole ancestors so comparatively remote as to be quite 
 as good as the FFs of Virginia, Barataria was considered 
 to be an aristocratic island, a very Belgravia among 
 colonies and by no means to be despised. It was there- 
 fore something to be, if only for a while, the constitutional 
 head of such a community. Besides, the constitution of 
 which Ben Brown was, next to His Sovereign, the apex, 
 was it not an exact counterpart of that of Great Britain ? 
 
 In those days Barataria had a Privy Council — not a 
 sort of hob and nob conference held any how, which a 
 Governor's advisers could attend in cut-a-way coats and 
 trousers of garish hue and billy-cock hats, but a solemn 
 assembly, convened with much form and ceremony, at 
 which His Majesty's representative wore a uniform that, 
 
n8 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 with many buttons, epaulettes, sash and sword, and a 
 most warlike cocked hat, was a thing to gaze at ; and the 
 Honourable members, as was to be expected in so well 
 ordered an island as Barataria, wore a garb hardly less 
 gorgeous. To them were denied indeed the epaulettes, 
 and sword, but their dark blue coats with scarlet and 
 gold collars and cuffs were simply splendid — if a little 
 heavy. Then were not the minutes taken down in a 
 masterful way, following the fashion in the mother country 
 and writing only the first and final letters of a name, so 
 that B — n B — n and J — n S — h became to the uninitiated, 
 crptographs, and defied detection as Benjamin Brown 
 and John Smith ? 
 
 There was a Legislative Council then. A House of 
 Lords in fact, which was the Privy Council minus the 
 Governor, but under presidency of the Senior member, 
 and which would open its proceedings with prayer, — not 
 read in a perfunctory way by a clerk, — who in those days 
 when Church and State were closely knit together, would 
 clearly be ineligible to pray in public, but by a Chaplain, 
 paid and robed as such, and who if it happened to be 
 Jack Fairfax, Rural Dean, &c, the best whist player in 
 the island, and related to at least half the Council, would 
 be kicking his heels and using strong words in the ante- 
 room. Besides the Chaplain there was a Sergeant-at- 
 arms, a tall bent greyheaded old gentleman who had seen 
 better days and who, seated by the door, nodded and 
 took snuff all through the most exciting debates, it is 
 true ; but was ready, as far as his feeble powers would 
 allow, to remove the burliest Councillor if disorderly. Old 
 Mr. Greypole had been unfortunate, and so had been his 
 
A Romance of Barataria. 119 
 
 many creditors, but he was uncle to a Councillor and 
 father of at least two members of Assembly, and so he had 
 had been made Sergeant at a comfortable salary. 
 
 The third estate was the Commons, the House of 
 Assembly consisting of a score of members whose pro- 
 ceedings were conducted on British principles. It is 
 true that out of the whole population of Barataiia only a 
 few were eligible as voters, and of thos? few., but a handful 
 exercised thdr privilege ; so that very often two members 
 would be returned by their own votes and that of some 
 odd man who happened to be present, but in this they 
 were not very different from the unreformed English 
 House. The Assembly met under a Speaker who sate 
 robed in solemn state, in a large carved chair on a dais ; 
 and there were clerk and usher, besides a big mace which 
 some patriotic and generous occupant of the chair had 
 contributed to the greater glory of the House. On the 
 walls were pictures of His Majesty George III. and his 
 Consort, the work of the Court Painter, and costing some 
 good sum. There were also portraits of later sovereigns, 
 so that the hall had an appearance of some splendour. 
 Measures were introduced and passed through three stages 
 and in and out of Committee, in strict and decorous 
 fashion, even though they affected the smallest matters 
 conceivable ; and some members were eloquent, and 
 delivered themselves of speeches manufactured and com- 
 mitted to memory for the occasion, bristling with quota- 
 tions, (always however in English, for to quote Latin was 
 not considered quite fair play,) and sparkling with im- 
 promptus that had cost some slight study. 
 
 Such was the constitution over which our friend Ben- 
 
120 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 jamin Brown was called on to preside, and of which few, 
 if any, examples now exist, less cumbrous machinery 
 supplying its place, but of course, there are still some old 
 fogies laudatores temporis acti who shake their heads 
 and sigh for the days that are gone. 
 
 We left Mrs. Brown in the arms of her beloved Ben, 
 and he had in turn to embrace Norah, whose satisfaction 
 at her father's freshly acquired dignity, was due entirely 
 to her love for him. These congratulations and ex- 
 pressions over, it became necessary to arrange for the 
 morrow, and the President's Windsor uniform was brushed 
 and fresh lustre given to its lace and buttons by Mrs. 
 Brown's deft fingeis ; then the good lady took out of the 
 book case some neglected volumes, and after dinner, 
 Norah read out aloud several elegant extracts from the 
 speeches of byegone statesmen, with a view to her father 
 gathering therefrom what might be appropriate for him 
 to say on the occasion of his being sworn in, and to 
 which he, pipe in mouth, listened for some time atten- 
 tively. 
 
 "Norah," at last said he, laying down his pipe, 
 *' Norah, my dear, read no more. I don't believe in warming 
 up those cold bits of eloquence for present use. No 
 hash is ever so good as the original boiled or roast." 
 
 " I don't know that, dear," interrupted Mrs. Brown ; 
 •■ with a dash of that Demerara stuff, what d'ye call it ? 
 — casareepe, or a little roucou and some cives and tickie 
 thyme/' 
 
 " I expect/' continued her husband with a wave of the 
 hand that silenced her, " that Sneezley and those other 
 fellows at the Council would rather have some few words, 
 
A Romance of Barataria. 121 
 
 plain-spoken words, coming from my heart in my own 
 fashion, than a page of borrowed stuff, so shut up your 
 books, my dear, thank'ye ; and mix me a little brandy 
 and water. As for quoting things other fellows have 
 said, bless you ! it doesn't follow that the man who does 
 that believes in 'em, and may be he only does it to 
 brag and show off his learning ; — and some of the fools that 
 hear him, think he has the brains of him that wrote the 
 book, as if a man that stole a board off a house owned 
 the whole building," — and Mr. Brown puffed at his long 
 clay in silence. 
 
 "Ben" said his wife after a pause, "we must give 
 some sort of entertainment you know, a dinner or a 
 dance." 
 
 " Of course Bess, of course, one or both of them, let's 
 say both; the dinner will suit us old fogies, and the 
 dance the young ones like our Norah here ; eh ! little 
 one ? Who knows but that you may bring to book some 
 of the fellows that have been flitting round you like Jack 
 Spaniards round a molasses cask; not that I see any of 
 them worthy of you, my pet, but * mountain dove can't 
 cross sea fo' look odder dove', as the niggers say." As 
 the worthy old gentleman said this, he raised his glass to 
 his lips, while his wife, stealing a glance at Norah whose 
 eyes became somewhat dimmed, put her hand on his arm 
 and whispered, " hush !" 
 
 Mr. Brown looked up with an enquiring glance, then 
 nodded as if he remembered something, and forgetting 
 that he had already commenced a draught, took down 
 the rest of the contents of his tumbler. 
 
 " Shall we make the dance select or general :" asked 
 Mrs. Brown. Q 
 
122 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 " What do you mean, Bess ?" 
 
 " Well, dear, shall we ask every one we know, or con- 
 sidering our, I mean your, present position shall we only 
 ask the — well — what we may call the fashionable people, 
 our equals as it were ?" 
 
 " How, now Bess !" said the President, tapping his 
 spouse's rosy cheek, M that's not like you, you wouldn't 
 have us forget the old friends of along ago, that when we 
 were working our way up never turned a cold shoulder 
 to us, but often gave us a helping hand, would you ? 
 No ! no ! we'll have our old chums who have kept 
 themselves decent, and we'll have the aristocracy as well." 
 
 " My dear Ben, don't be foolish, the mixture won't 
 answer." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Don't you see you'll have the cream a-top and at the 
 bottom the milk " 
 
 " From which the cream has risen, eh ?" said her 
 husband concluding the sentence. " My dear Bess, we 
 are going to try it ; if it fails, the blame won't lie at our 
 door, nor with our former friends, and as for what you 
 may call the aristocracy, the Macduffs and Sneezleys and 
 Greypoles and La Roches and all that lot, why they're 
 bouid to come. I'm not especially proud of it, as you 
 know, but I am as good as Governor and Her Majesty's 
 representative, and so, if they do cock their noses in the 
 air at Ben Brown, and snigger at the store, et cetera, they 
 must respect his office ; besides, my love, well, it's vulgar 
 perhaps to allude to it, but a precious lot of 'em remem- 
 ber that Ben Brown has in his safe, slips of paper with 
 their aristocratic names of them, that they prefer to let 
 
A Romance of Barataria. 123 
 
 slumber there ; and mind you, Bess, there's generally a 
 lot of civility to be got out of a man when you can't get 
 your money out of him, sometimes it's all you can get," 
 and Mr. Brown peeped into his tumbler from which like- 
 wise nothing more could be got. 
 
 " Well, Ben, so be it ; you know, dear" — and here Mrs. 
 Brown kissed her husband's brow — " you know you always 
 have your own way." 
 
 Then the couple settled down with Norah to make 
 out lists of guests; a long proceeding, for Ben Brown's 
 memory would often, at the mention of a name, rjcdl 
 some anecdote or occurrence of bygone years, and again 
 time would occasionally be consumed in debating whether 
 this or that person had not rather passed even the line 
 which the President had liberally and generously drawn 
 in the matter of invitations. 
 
 It was a long list when done, and Norah promised to 
 send out early and get all the cards she could on which 
 to write the invitations in the style of those usually issued 
 from Government House. There was a newspaper in the 
 island, the history and vicissitudes of which would require 
 columns to narrate, but at this period the staff, — editor, 
 reporter, London correspondent, compositor, devil, press- 
 man and publisher — was centred in one man, who had a 
 financial difficulty with Ben Brown and could not be 
 asked to print the cards ; indeed their completion would 
 have been as uncertain as the date of issue of the Banner 
 of Barataria usually was. 
 
 Norah, however, had no difficulty in getting her cards 
 neatly written by some of the young fellows in the town, 
 whose hearts as well as their hands were hers for the 
 asking. 
 
124 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 The ceremony of installation went off very well. The 
 police formed as excellent a guard of honour as when 
 the Lieut. Governor left. Flinders having only a smaller 
 number of guns to fire, acquitted himself capitally. The 
 Chief Justice administered the oaths in an impressive 
 manner and the President said a few sensible words in a 
 sensible way. His old friends shook hands with him, 
 and altogether it was a sort of quiet friendly affair. The 
 crowd shouted and cheered, greatly encouraged thereto 
 by knowing that Ben Brown had given orders for liquor 
 to be freely dispensed ; and in half an hour all was over. 
 
 Mrs. Brown was only at the commencement of her 
 labours and anxieties; no ball or dance is complete 
 without a supper, and she, good woman, was determined 
 there should be no falling off, no cause of complaint on 
 that head. The dance was to be at Government House, 
 an ugly building with no great accommodation other 
 than a large huge room devoted to purposes of entertain- 
 ment. It was difficult of illumination, for the only means 
 were only old-fashioned bronze oil lamps very difficult to 
 coax into a good temper, and still harder to keep going. 
 The musical arrangements lay between a sorcophagus- 
 like grand piano of Tomkinson or some other pre-adamite 
 maker, and the local band ; but the floor was good, and 
 the galleries afforded ample space for promenade and the 
 tea tables. The room dressed with foliage of which there 
 was practically no end, and brightened up with flags, 
 promised to be a pretty sight when filled with lovely 
 faces and fresh dresses. 
 
 But as the days passed by and replies to invitations 
 came in, there came also signs of trouble. There were 
 
 
A Romance of Barataria. 125 
 
 many notes declining the honour; some with excuses 
 probably false, and as Norah put a big, big D against the 
 names in the list they mounted up to a large majority as 
 as far as the landed aristocraey were concerned. In a 
 short while the reason was known. Folks of blue blood 
 did not object to the Browns, but then the friends of the 
 Browns were some of them so very queer — some of them 
 certainly proper — but people not met in the best circles 
 of Barataria. As the list continued to shew more D's, so 
 Mrs. Brown struck off a turkey or a pair of fowls, reduced 
 a cake and cut short a trifle or a custard, from the 
 evening's menu. Sometimes the colour in her cheeks 
 would be heightened, and she would bite her lip; but 
 Ben her good man only bade her keep heart, all would go 
 well, and he never once descended to a " Told you so." 
 
 At the time of which we speak, there were no troops 
 quartered at Barataria, and H.M. ships rarely visited the 
 island. All this was very different to the old times when 
 there was a tolerably strong garrison at the Fort, and 
 scarcely a week passed without a visit from a vessel of 
 war. A few months, however, before the Lieut. 
 Governor went on furlough, H.M.S. Arethusa, about the 
 last of those 32-gun frigates of which none now remain, 
 but which were the most beautiful craft the English navy 
 has ever known, had run into Barataria, to the great 
 delight of the inhabitants. Dinners, picnics, and dances 
 were hastily got up, and the week or so of the Arethusas 
 stay was one long revel. The Baratarians declared they 
 never had met such charming officers ; the washer- 
 women and frui :-sellers loudly declared that " the 
 buckra sailors were real gentlemen, fo true" while the 
 
ia6 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 ship's company voted Barataria to be a real western 
 Paradise, its male inhabitants 'bricks/ its women Peris 
 and angels. 
 
 Now Miss Norah Brown, the belle of the island, did 
 little but ride and dance all day and all night through 
 that eventful week, and when she was quite alone by 
 herself, used to confess that of all the Arethusas there 
 was none so handsome or so nice as a certain Lieut. 
 Trevor ; and Lieut. Trevor, who did little else but ride 
 about and dance with Miss Brown, thought, and (to a 
 few chosen friends) openly avowed that of all the Bara- 
 tarian demoiselles, none came within a cable's length of 
 Norah. I am afraid that at that farewell hop on board 
 the frigate, when Mr. and Mrs. Brown insisted on Norah's 
 leaving, although it was only 3.45 a.m., and Lieut. 
 Trevor put Norah's shawl over her shoulders, there was a 
 sly squeeze of the hand and a still more sly glance that 
 meant a very great deal between these young people. And 
 when the Arethusa sailed, Norah watched her till the ship 
 was hull-down, when her eyes became very red, and she was 
 altogether out of sorts for many days after. One mail 
 brought her a letter from Trevor, written in the most 
 proper terms, enclosing some little nic-nac he asked her 
 to accept as a souvenir, and after the receipt of this, her 
 health revived, and one would have believed the little 
 Naples coral ornament had proved a "charm" indeed. 
 Trevor, in the course of one long romantic ride, had told 
 Norah he was poor, and had only his profession to look 
 forward to : and as they had grown rather confidential, 
 he added some other information about himself, while 
 Norah described her life in Barataria since her childhood, 
 
 *& 
 
A Romance of Barataria. 127 
 
 and they took quite an extraordinary interest in each 
 other. 
 
 The President's ball would be the tfrst dance in the 
 island after that on board the frigate, and Norah naturally 
 drew comparisons between the pleasures of the one, and 
 the uncertain success of the other. She was worried too 
 at doubts of her ever seeing Trevor again, and old Phoebe, 
 her nurse, * who had eyes to see/ drove her half wild 
 with recounting her own love experiences, and how 
 bitterly she repented having encouraged one Apollo 
 Hector, the captain of a sloop, who proved faithless, 
 having one wife in Barbados, and several sweethearts in 
 sundry other islands ; Phcebe not neglecting to observe 
 that " in lub buckra same as neegur, you no hable to 
 judge from he 'kin, if cat be tief or no ;" and that 
 " sailor man like doctor bird,* he find sweet flower on mo 7 
 tree than one." 
 
 However the eventful evening drew near, and the 
 preparations were more or less complete. Mrs. Brown 
 had made all her arrangements betimes, and, being a 
 good general, had at length some leisure on Monday 
 (the ball being fixed for Thursday,) and Norah looking 
 towards the Fort, saw the Union Jack run up at the 
 signal mast. She flew to her mother who was her sole 
 confidante, and who was seated at her writing table with 
 a heap of household accounts before her, reckoning with 
 her fingers, for all the world as if playing on an invisible 
 piano. 
 
 " Oh mother !" cried Norah, "a man o' war!" 
 
 ■ A man o' what, love ?" enquired the old lady, con- 
 Humming bird. 
 
128 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 tinuing her occupation, and keeping time with her head. 
 
 " It it should be the Arethusa /" 
 
 " What does she say ; has she accepted ?" 
 
 " Dear, dear mother ! do, just listen one moment ; 
 there's a man o'war signalled/' 
 
 '1 Never, Norah ! Well, we must send them invitations ; 
 here, sit down and write." 
 
 " We'd better wait till the ship arrives ; come into the 
 gallery, and look if we can see her," suggested her 
 daughter. 
 
 No ship could be seen, and there was considerable 
 doubt as to whether the vessel signalled v?z.st\iQArethusa t 
 and as to its destination, and Norah passed a consider- 
 able part of the day in anxious wonderings. It was late 
 in the afternoon before her patience was rewarded by the 
 sight of a frigate, with the lines and trim that Norah in a 
 few days had learned to know almost better than she did 
 those of her father's coasters, standing into the bay. By and 
 bye she heard her father's voice, and hastened down from 
 her room to which she had retired to put on a fresh 
 dress, and pay some little attention to her hair. There 
 was a stranger with her father as she could hear, and 
 when she entered the drawing-room she was terribly dis- 
 appointed at finding only Captain Clinton whom she 
 greeted with a rather cast-down air. 
 
 " What stay can you make, Captain Clinton ?" Mrs. 
 Brown was asking rather eagerly. " I hope until the end 
 of the week, for we have a dance on Thursday and you 
 will all be so welcome." 
 
 " Well," said the Captain, " I dare say we can manage 
 that, and get away on Friday morning at daybreak ; no 
 
A Romance of Barataria. 129 
 
 doubt we can count on a breeze than at this time of the 
 year." 
 
 " And have you brought back all our old friends, or 
 any new ones T 
 
 " There have been some changes, or rather I should 
 say, one ; Lieut. Trevor's name is no longer borne on 
 our books " 
 
 Poor Norah's eyes filled, and turning away she bent 
 over some flowers in the window. 
 
 " Nothing wrong, I hope " 
 
 " Oh no ; he's ; a lucky fellow and has got promotion 
 unexpectedly." 
 
 Old Benjamin Brown's face grew very red and he 
 looked at his daughter with a peculiar expression in his 
 face — * Has he left the Are thus a then ? ' he burst out. 
 
 '• Our second lieutenant" began the Captain " is now 
 Miss Norah I am afraid you are unwell.'' 
 
 Mrs. Brown at these words turned round, and saw that 
 her daughter was much agitated, so putting her arm 
 around her waist she escorted her from the room. 
 
 " Captain Clinton'' said Mr. Brown as the two men 
 resumed their seats, " our poor Norah there, allowed herself 
 to listen too long to your Lieutenant Trevor, and I confess 
 I didn't care to interfere, especially as Mrs. Brown under- 
 took to keep an eye on the two of them ; but I must say, 
 I did not expect to see the Arethusa back without Mr. 
 Trevor, or at least a letter from him. If he merely 
 thought proper to amuse himself, when he was here, with 
 our girl, who's as good as gold, and then chucks her 
 aside like a banana skin, all I can say is, that as old as I 
 am, it won't be a pleasant afternoon for Mr. T. when 
 
 R 
 
130 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 he and I meet. Forgive my .haste, I conclude you have 
 no letter from him/' 
 
 " No," hesitated the captain " I have no letter — nor 
 any message." 
 
 " Then begging your pardon, he's a rascal." 
 
 " Well ! well !" said Clinton, " he may yet explain, but 
 I must be off now. I suppose Mrs. Brown won't object 
 to as many dancers as the Arethusa can supply ; you'll 
 want some bunting for your rooms, and I'll send and 
 have it fixed for you, and I'll find the music ;" and then 
 shaking hands he left the house, while the President went 
 up stairs to see Norah. 
 
 Hardly had he left the room before Mrs. Brown en- 
 tered with some visiting cards in her hand, and as she 
 did so she was joined by a gaunt lady, followed by two 
 smaller, or at all events, younger editions of herself. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Brown," said the eldest lady, rushing 
 up and shaking hands, while the younger ones presented 
 their cheeks for a salute, " my dear Mrs. Brown, I do 
 hope you won't think me odd, but I thought it best 
 to call myself and explain that when I wrote declining 
 dear Mr. Brown's and your kind invitation to the ball, I 
 made such a silly mistake ; I find it is Friday not 
 Thursday we expect our friend, and so if you don't mind, 
 we shall be so glad to come ; you will let us, won't you ? 
 You understand how important it is for young girls like 
 Edith and Rosina to lose no chance of meeting eligible 
 people ; and at your dance we know that they will have 
 every opportunity." 
 
 m Really, Mrs. Mt. Fitchit," replied Mrs. Brown, "the 
 President and I only looked to have the company of our 
 
A Romance of Barataria. 131 
 
 friends, and you know what sort of people are met at 
 dances. " 
 
 " Oh, but Mrs. Brown," broke in Miss Edith Mt. Fitchit, 
 with an amount of candour that made her mother frown 
 and wink as if she were unwell, "you know the 
 Arethusa is in and they are all sure to come, besides 
 there's a swell on board." 
 
 " A what, my dear T 
 
 " A swell, I beg pardon, mamma, some big wig, he's 
 travelling as the Captain's guest." 
 
 H Well, Mrs. Brown, it is so, and if he does come to 
 the ball I want you to promise me one thing." 
 
 " And that is ?" 
 
 " To let my Edith and Rosina dance with him ; he's 
 a titled personage my dear Mrs. Brown, what title I don't 
 know, but in poor little Barataria since we had Sir — you 
 know — Sir Thingumy — who was a baronet, for a Gover- 
 nor, we have net seen anyone of consequence. I know 
 he's somebody of great importance and there is a mystery 
 about it all." 
 
 u A lettah, ma'am !" and Rachel, a small protegee of the 
 establishment, brought in a rather crumpled and muddy 
 envelope. " The boy"— and here the damsel giggled — 
 " the boy all over mud, ma'am, and begs an excuse as 
 the letter all dirty up, but for he mule bad mule and he 
 throw he and that make so. He say you must be so 
 kind as gib he ansah now." 
 
 " You'll excuse me" said Mrs. Brown to her visitors, 
 and opening the note — "Ah? it's from Mrs. Macduff, 
 oh! I'm so glad, it turns out not to be measles her 
 second boy had ; he was only over heated." 
 
132 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 " Over eaten himself no doubt/' suggested the second 
 Miss Mt. Fitchit. 
 
 " And she now finds she can come to the dance. Of 
 course I must tell her to come." 
 
 " De bearer say," observed Rachel, as she re-entered 
 the room, " he ready for go, but he fraid he catch cold ; 
 besides he swallow some of de mud and he tummick — * 
 
 " Silence, Rachel !" interrupted her mistress, " give 
 him some rum and tell him to wait." 
 
 However, the Mt. Fitchit trio rose to take their de- 
 parture. 
 
 " Mind, dear Mrs. Brown, remember our dances with 
 the " 
 
 " Well, well," was the reply, " remember I dont know 
 who the personage is, and I really can't promise." 
 
 " Ah ! but we know you will ; good bye," and away 
 went the mother and her two young ones. 
 
 It seemed as if the arrival of the Arethusa was to undo 
 all that cruel Fate had brought about in preventing so 
 many of the President's subjects from accepting the in- 
 vitations to the Ball. More notes arrived in the course of 
 that and the subsequent day, and as much ingenuity was 
 displayed in framing excuses for coming, as had been 
 shewn in explaining why it was impossible to be present. 
 Some people, as the Mt. Fitchits had done, thought it 
 better to call, and although good Mrs. Brown was not in 
 the least deceived by the flimsy pretences now made, she 
 thought it politic to accept them all as if they were 
 Gospel, and to look pleasant ; and to some extent 
 she was repaid by the amusement afforded her by the 
 very awkward fibs and devices of her friends. 
 
A Romance of Barataria. 133 
 
 There was, however, a matter that worried her a good 
 deal, and prevented her dwelling too much on what 
 some women would have resented as an insult. She was 
 very anxious about her Norah ; — she knew of her daughter's 
 penchant for Lieut. Trevor, and mother-like, she wished 
 to see her child happily married and settled. To the 
 Browns, money was no object ; Norah's dowry would be 
 very handsome, and indeed for some years past, her 
 father had continued the business, less from love of gain, 
 than from love of occupation. Oft times he and his Bess 
 would plan what they would do when Norah left them ; 
 to close the business, and travel, so as to see something 
 of the world, of which they had heard so much, and 
 knew so little, was the chief item in the programme. 
 
 Norah kept her room for the rest of the day on which 
 Capt. Clinton had called. She was annoyed with herself 
 for having attached such value to Trevor's honeyed words, 
 — angry with him for having made a fool of her. Ashamed, 
 and dreading the condolences and covert sneers of her 
 female friends who had observed, and envied her, the 
 marked attention of the faithless sailor, the poor girl was 
 in a fair way of making herself really ill. Her father's 
 caresses, alternated with smothered denunciations of 
 Trevor, and her mother's hopes that all might yet be 
 well, and rather contradictory advice to think no more 
 about the fellow, all helped to agitate her. The result 
 was that Norah was very wretched. 
 
 The next day her father had, in his official capacity, to 
 return the formal visit which the Captain of the Frigate 
 had paid at Government House, and our old friend attired 
 in his Windsor uniform, and attended by a half dozen 
 
134 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 high officials, went on board the Arethusa. Seated in the 
 Police boat which carrried a big flag, and was well down 
 in the stern, the party looked resplendent. The Arethusa' s 
 yards were manned, and there was a guard to receive 
 them as they ascended the ladder, which was rather a 
 perilous affair, for the Inspector, whose sword got in the 
 way, nearly came a cropper, and threatened a general 
 capsize to the rest of the party. There was the usual 
 bowing all round with some introductions and then an 
 adjournment to the Captain's cabin where a capital 
 lunch was spread. The formal duty being over, swords 
 were laid aside and one or two buttons of the heavy 
 uniform loosened. The company broke up into little 
 knots and some went round and renewed acquaintance 
 with the good ship and her officers. 
 
 Captain Clinton however, took the President under his 
 wing and carried him off to a quiet corner of the cabin, 
 and the two had an earnest conversation. The effect on 
 Mr. Brown was evidently very startling, for his eyes 
 dilated, his mouth opened, and his old face became 
 puckered up into an expression of the greatest surprise, 
 then came a sudden smile that rapidly changed into a 
 saddened disappointed look as he slowly shook his head. 
 
 " I doubt if it will succeed, Clinton. I do indeed — 
 however it is only fair to do as you suggest" — and the 
 pair rose from their seat. 
 
 The Captain ringing his bell, gave some directions to 
 the quartermaster, who in a few minutes returned with 
 a '\Will be glad to see you, Sir." 
 
 Following Capt. Clinton, the President found himself 
 at the door of an officer's cabin and in the presence of its 
 
A Romance of Barataria. 135 
 
 occupant, lying in his cot whose hand he grasped, not 
 without some hesitation* 
 
 "I am very sorry you're ill, though I confess I am 
 glad that your non-appearance at my house is due to no 
 other cause than your not being well. I must congratulate 
 you however — " 
 
 " My dear Mr. Brown," interrupted the officer, raising 
 himself into a sitting posture, " you may be sure I should 
 at once have come to you, but the doctor forbids my 
 leaving my cabin for another day. He's a good soul is 
 Dr. Narcott, but I fancy he's more nervous about me 
 than is quite necessary, and I wanted to be the first to 
 acquaint you with , my altered circumstances, and so 
 begged the Captain to tell you." 
 
 "Well, that wasn't a fib exactly, but — I kept your 
 secret very well," said Captain Clinton, 
 
 " Yes," added the President " and I was completely 
 deceived ; however, you'll be able to land to-morrow. 
 Good bye for the present." 
 
 The Captain and President turned to leave the cabin 
 when the latter was detained by the grasp of the officer, 
 and Clinton taking the hint, left the two together. 
 
 What passed between them is unknown. One thing is 
 certain, that the President came out of the cabin some- 
 what agitated, and had not regained his equanimity when 
 he joined the Captain, whom he found engaged with 
 some of his visitors. Then luncheon was announced, 
 and though he was placed at the Captain's right, — so 
 eagerly did every one fall to, that amid the clash of knife 
 and fork and ring of glasses and the buzz of a general 
 conversation he could only find opportunity to inform 
 
136 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 Clinton in a whisper, that somebody was "a first-rate 
 fellow." 
 
 The repast over and a cigar smoked, the Island party 
 took their leave with the usual ceremonies, and got safely 
 to shore. 
 
 There the President at once sought out his wife, and 
 the pair had a long and serious conversation. 
 
 "There's no doubt" said Mr. Brown, "that he loves 
 her, and we know only too well that she returns his 
 affection. Well, Bess my dear, there is enough money 
 to make her comfortable even as his wife, and he although 
 by no means well off, has what money can't buy. He'll 
 make her happy I do believe, and so we mustn't say no. 
 The only thing is, old lady, we'll have to put up the 
 shutters. B. Brown & Co. will have to disappear; 
 there never was a Co— and you and I must take as well 
 as we may to London folks and London fashions. Well ! 
 it's a queer world/' 
 
 " But Ben, — you don't explain why he wanted to play 
 us such a trick ?" 
 
 • " Well, my dear, when he got news of his uncle and 
 his only cousin, being killed in a railway collision, he 
 says he wasn't quite sure if Norah really cared for him, 
 and then he was afraid that in spite of what had hap- 
 pened, we should think him too poor ; then he got a 
 slight attack of fever and begged every one — Clinton and 
 all — to keep his arrival a secret till he could see you 
 and me." 
 
 " Of course, you told him what we knew about Norah's 
 feelings." 
 
 "Yes I did, and it seemed precious queer to be 
 
A Romance of Barataria. 137 
 
 shaking hands with the fellow whose head I only yesterday 
 had wanted to punch. He has begged, and I have promised 
 to let him be the first to tell Norah. So not a word to 
 her." 
 
 The President's Ball came off in due time, and was a 
 perfect success. Space does not allow of a description of 
 the decorations, the company, and of the wonderful 
 toilettes that graced the scene. The room was crowded ; 
 people came from the remotest ends of the Island. Ben 
 Brown's old friends mustered in great force and devoted 
 themselves rather to refreshments and mild whist than to 
 dancing, and those who did dance, preferred quadrilles 
 which were executed by them with every detail and pre- 
 cision ; a few of the more giddy ones venturing on a 
 polka which as compared with the romps of now-a-days, 
 was done at a funeral pace. But besides these, there were 
 quick footed agile damsels who were whirled here, there 
 and everywhere, by the Arethusas and the more accom- 
 plished Baratarian youths. The supper was excellent, 
 thanks to Mrs. Brown, and the music capital ; in short, 
 the whole thing was, as the Banner several weeks later 
 remarked, a Terpsichorean Triumph ; and dear old Mr. 
 and Mrs. Brown sat side by side looking on with delight 
 and some not unpardonable pride. 
 
 Mrs. Mt. Fitchit and her daughters were there, — the 
 latter were dancing their best, and their mother seated 
 next Mrs. Brown was watching them and their partners 
 in blue and gold. Presently an officer passed the group 
 with Norah Brown on his arm. 
 
 " Dear, dear 11 whispered Mrs. Mt. Fitchit in Mrs. 
 Brown's ear, " I'm so glad to see dear Norah is bearing 
 
 s 
 
138 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 up so well, such a disappointment as it must have been !" 
 " I don't understand, quite," said Mrs. Brown. 
 11 Why, about that Trevor. We were told he had 
 thrown her over, and after all his attentions. Well! 
 well ! but she seems consoled. Who is that with her?" 
 " That's a lieutenant of the Arethusa." 
 " Why, my dear Mrs. Brown, so I imagine, but who 
 is he ?" 
 
 1* I don't suppose" said Mrs. Brown, " there need be 
 any further concealment : that is Norah's future husband, 
 please God !" 
 
 " Her future husband ! She's engaged ? Why you don't 
 say so ? When was it all arranged ? That can't be Lieut. 
 Trevor." 
 
 " Well, dear Mrs. Mt. Fitchit, it is, and it is not. Since 
 the Arethusa was last here, Lieut. Trevor has unexpect- 
 edly succeeded to the title and is now Lord Killbarry." 
 
 Mrs. Mt. Fitchit " thought a lot" but confined herself 
 to the expressive remark " Well, I never !" 
 
 Yes; so it was. Trevor who was supposed to be 
 faithless, had turned up, but under a different name, and 
 as a Peer and a poor one as Peers go, but his affection 
 for Norah was unaltered, and the interview with her 
 father had given him encouragement. An hour or two 
 before the ball began, therefore, he had come ashore, had 
 met Norah's father and mother and Norah herself, and 
 explained all ; and so in due time Norah Brown became 
 Viscountess Killbarry. Her father and mother followed 
 her home, and took kindly to their new life, and for 
 many years their house was a rendezvous for their West 
 Indian friends. 
 
A Run-away. 139 
 
 
 A RUN-AWAY. 
 
 ONCE upon a time there was a grave official scan- 
 dal in St. Maria. The — well never mind what 
 he was, but we all called him Portman — Caven- 
 dish Portman — early one morning walked through the 
 streets of the capital of that island, and accosting men of 
 business, planters, and professional men, quietly asked 
 them each and all for the loan of ^"300, which, in St. 
 Maria, in those days, was a large sum. Portman had the 
 reputation of being a wag, and as he appeared to be 
 quite sober — which was not always the case — the good 
 people were inclined to consider that Portman was 
 " poking fun," especially when he coolly added that he 
 was short in his money that amount. And so they dis- 
 missed him with a " nonsense ! you're joking" or some 
 such remark, and passed on. 
 
 When ten o'clock came, Portman was seated in his 
 office with his legs on the table, evidently watching for 
 the arrival of someone, who soon appeared in the person 
 of Governor Fairfax, accompanied by the Colonial Secre- 
 tary. 
 
 Portman jumped off his chair to receive him. 
 
 " I have your letter, Mr. Portman," said His Ex- 
 cellency " and am deeply pained at the contents. I did 
 not expect this." 
 
 " Well," said Portman with a smile, " I confess I did. 
 I expected though, to make it all right, and even up to 
 this morning I was trying to raise the money." 
 
 He did not mention that he had about him some £$o 
 which he had scraped together. 
 
I40 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 "Three hundred pounds?" enquired the Colonial 
 Secretary, whose name was Scott, 
 
 " Well, that's a covering amount. The actual deficit 
 is ^293 15s. 4d. up to date. Of course I am very sorry 
 and all that, and I confess I don't see my way to re- 
 placing it. You see, Scott, it would take such a deuced 
 long time to pay it by stoppages out of my salary, 
 wouldn't it ?*' 
 
 V That," said the Governor, " is entirely out of the 
 question. I am very sorry, but of course you are sus- 
 pended, and on a charge of embezzlement." 
 
 " Oh ! hang it ! I beg Your Excellency's pardon — -but 
 not embezzlement. I assure you I have put in my 
 I O U for every sixpence of the money, so that I have 
 been above aboard ; — no one can deny that." 
 
 His Excellency shook his head and saying, " Mr. 
 Scott, you will put Mr. Jennings in charge of the office 
 forthwith," strode away towards the Attorney Generals 
 office. 
 
 " I say, Scott," said Mr. Portman as he returned from 
 the door whence he had seen the Governor go into the 
 Court house, "the old man isn't going to do anything 
 rash, is he ?" 
 
 " Anything rash ?" 
 
 " Well, I mean any d — d law work over this stupid 
 affair, because he's gone into Codicil's chambers." 
 
 V I don't know I am sure," replied Mr. Scott. 
 
 " Which means, old fellow, that you are perfectly sure. 
 Well, I'll go home to my diggings. Suppose I shall hear 
 from some of you later on. Ta-ta! r ' And Mr. Portman 
 put on his hat, as usual a little one side, rolled up his 
 
A Run-away. 141 
 
 umbrella into the slimmest proportions, and walked 
 jauntily towards his house. 
 
 The result of the Governor's interview with his Attor- 
 ney General was the framing of an information and the 
 issue of a warrant against Cavendish Portman for that 
 he, &c., &c. 
 
 This was not done in haste. There was a search into 
 books of law and into Portman's books and the Treasurer's 
 books, and an Executive Council was held, and the 
 Police authorities consulted, so that it was quite late in 
 the day before the Senior Officer of Police armed with a 
 warrant proceeded to Mr. Portman's residence. That 
 gentleman was not at home, no one seemed to know 
 where he had gone ; but there was nothing to indicate 
 that he had fled, indeed the cook was preparing dinner. 
 Then there was a search through the town ; people had 
 seen Mr. Portman walking about, so he did every day ; 
 his friends were interrogated, but without result. Messen- 
 gers were sent post haste into the country districts, but 
 St. Maria saw Mr. Portman no more. 
 
 Now the nearest island to St. Maria is St. Molasses, not 
 many miles distant, and the St. Maria boatmen were first- 
 class oarsmen, so that it was an easy matter for a four-oared 
 canoe to cross the narrow channel in fine weather. The 
 Corporal of Police at Point-a-Mire in St. Molasses, there- 
 fore was not at all surprised when at day-break on the 
 morning after Portman's disappearance, he saw a boat 
 run up on the beach just below the station. Speculating 
 as to whether it was " rum" or " cattle," smuggling or 
 larceny, that caused the visit of the strangers, he went 
 
142 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 down to where the canoe was being hauled up and 
 challenged the party in patois. 
 
 There was no reply, but a gentleman, who was the only 
 passenger, came up to him, — enquired if the Corporal 
 knew who he was, and on the Corporal's answering in the 
 negative he confided to that officer that he was the Chief 
 of Police in St. Maria, — that an official had escaped from 
 that island and was wanted for robbing the Treasury. Had 
 the Corporal seen any other vessel cross from St. Maria ? 
 
 The Corporal had not. 
 
 Then followed enquiries as to how long it would take to 
 reach the chief town, and in the end, his boat-hands being 
 liberally paid, and some instructions given them which 
 they readily promised to obey, the stranger after a cup of 
 coffee and something to eat, and provided With a mule 
 lent from the neighbouring estate on the written request 
 of the Chief of Police of St. Maria, started for town with 
 a policeman as guide. 
 
 The ground only permitted a slow pace, which how- 
 ever, enabled the policeman who carried his boots and 
 the traveller's carpet-bag on a stick across his shoulder, to 
 keep up with the mule. It was a fine morning and cool. 
 The mountain which in that part of the island leaves but 
 a bridle path between it and the sea, was covered with 
 mist that occasionally lifting, disclosed the ravines with 
 which the hill side was indented, and against which tiny 
 streamlets stood out like silver threads on a green ground. 
 On the other hand, the white cedar and grape trees formed 
 a screen through which could be seen the grey sea fling- 
 ing itself with a sob on the shingled beach. Now and 
 then a little settlement was passed, a group of reed- 
 
A Run-away. 143 
 
 thatched houses, sun-burnt to dark brown, within bamboo 
 fences half hidden in rich foliage, varied here and there 
 with the dark-red dragon-blood planted as a boundary 
 mark, while overhead waved cocoa-nut palms or well- 
 laden trees of bread-fruit. By and bye, the travellers 
 came to an estate where the manager was interviewed, 
 and the mule exchanged for a gig which the policeman 
 undertook to drive ; and later on, there were halts at a 
 place where a late breakfast was obtained, and at others 
 where a fresh horse was borrowed, until ultimately the 
 hill overlooking the town was reached, just as the signal 
 for the steamer was hoisted at the Fort, and the warning 
 gun fired. 
 
 The policeman who had been kept in ignorance of the 
 position of the gentleman in his care and of his errand, 
 was here dismissed with a liberal tip, and strict orders to 
 drive the gig by easy stages to where it had come from, 
 and the traveller, transferring his bag to the head 
 of a small boy, walked into town. People stared and 
 looked after him, and questioned one another, and 
 audibly made all sorts of guesses, but he took no notice, 
 and continued his journey until he reached the door of 
 the one hotel of St. Molasses. 
 
 In a few minutes he came out, looking all the fresher 
 for a hasty rub-down and a change of clothes, and strolled 
 down towards the store of Mr. Thomas Tinker, already 
 mentioned in these yarns, where that worthy was found in 
 his shirt sleeves leaning against his door-post smoking a 
 big and strong cigar. 
 
 Now Governor Fairfax had at one time acted as 
 Governor of St. Molasses, and had created no little 
 
144 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 trouble by the introduction into the local legislature of 
 certain measures, exciting thereby the opposition and 
 anger of Mr. Tinker, who radical in all else, was very con- 
 servative when any one tried to interfere with the duties 
 payable on the goods he sold. 
 
 When Mr. Tinker saw a well-dressed stranger step up 
 to his door, he at once concluded that he wanted to take 
 his passage by the steamer for which he was agent, and 
 his conclusion was correct. But there was to be some 
 preliminary talk, and the stranger began " Mr. Tinker I 
 presume " 
 
 " Right you are, sir" replied the Honourable Thomas, 
 
 " I have heard of you, Mr. Tinker, from — I cannot say 
 a mutual friend — rather the reverse," and the speaker 
 smiling, added " I believe you know Governor Fairfax." 
 
 " Know Governor Fairfax ? Rather ! No one better. 
 He is one of — " 
 
 *' Precisely," interrupted the other. 
 
 '• Now Mr. Tinker, I am about to confide in you, and I 
 feel I can safely do so," 
 
 " If it's anything about Governor Fairfax you can con- 
 fide or you can blow it off on the housetop which ever 
 you darned please." (Mr. Tinker perhaps from dealing in 
 American goods had picked up not a few Yankee ex- 
 pressions and a slight accent). "You can trust me, 
 stranger." 
 
 " Well, my name is Portman. I have just come from 
 St. Maria — crossed over in an open boat at the iisk of my 
 life, and come overland. I am on my way to England, 
 sir, to denounce Governor Fairfax and his tyrannous 
 ways* I am his victim." 
 
A Run-away. 145 
 
 " Allow me to shake hands, Mr. Portman. Any man 
 that's oppressed and down-trodden by Governor Fairfax, 
 has a claim to my sympathy. He acted — mind only 
 acted — as Governor here for six months, and a nice mess 
 he'd a made of it, but we were firm and re — sisted. Take 
 a chair, sir," and Mr. Tinker flicked some flour off a 
 rocker with his straw hat. " Be seated." 
 
 I forget what wonderful things they were which Port- 
 man invented, thereby rousing the indignation of Mr. 
 Tinker, who responded with a recapitulation of Mr. 
 Fairfax's misdeeds in St. Molasses. 
 
 " Would you believe it, sir ! He wanted to upset every- 
 thing — wanted to introduce what he called a more liberal 
 scheme of edication, as if what we have taught the little 
 niggers for the last twenty years wouldn't do for the next 
 fifty. Then there was some tomfoolery about improving 
 the harbour, as if that there bay that's held ever so many 
 tons of shipping, wanted improvement now that our im- 
 imports and exports are gone down. Wanted to join in 
 telegraphic communication ! Damme ! it makes me laugh 
 to think of that. Here's Thomas Tinker that's made his 
 pile without telegraphs. Telegraphs be blowed !" 
 
 " Telegraphs \" echoed Mr. Portman, who, thinking of 
 his own fortunes at this crisis was quite justified in 
 adding, "I believe if we had a cable running to the 
 island, to some of us it would simply mean ruin !" 
 
 " A truer word you never said, sir," and Mr. Tinker, 
 in the exuberance of his delight, slapped Mr. Portman 
 on the knee. " And then," he resumed, " the changes — 
 reforms he called 'em — he wanted to introduce. Why 
 sir ! he wanted to sooperannyate my own father-in-law 
 
 T 
 
146 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 that's been in the Customs here since he was a boy, and 
 he's 75 if he's a day. It's true his sight had failed, and 
 he may be rayther hard o'hearing, but he's got what 
 money won't buy, Mr. Portman, and that's experience ; 
 and simply because the poor old gentleman made a 
 trifling error or two and couldn't come to office for a fort- 
 night, he wanted to chuck him over." 
 
 " Shame !" murmured Mr. Portman. 
 
 " Any useful measure such as disestablishment of the 
 Church, disbanding the police, abolishing paid magis- 
 trates — Fairfax opposed ; why he actually argued that 
 an employer of labour couldn't decide a question of 
 labour law as well as a lawyer fellow fresh from home, 
 who'd never seen a cane field in his life. But the worst 
 of all, sir, was a barefaced attempt to raise the duty on 
 salt fish. That man — Fairfax — actually wanted to put 
 the duty at three dollars a quintal — mark that ! three 
 dollars. Why sir, it was robbery. I'm not sure if it 
 didn't come near sacrilege. He had a design on our 
 pockets, sir ! that's what he had — he wanted to support 
 a set of bloated over-fed officials at the expense of men 
 like me," — and Mr. Tinker beat his breast with in- 
 dignation. 
 
 Conversation of this kind and the consumption of a 
 bottle of champagne made the time pass rapidly until the 
 near approach of the steamer rendered it necessary to 
 talk of business. My pen cannot describe the smooth, 
 oily way in which Portman improved on the impression 
 which his own wrongs and his sympathy with those of 
 of Mr. Tinker had made on that gentleman's heart, so 
 that it was not a very difficult matter for Portman to hint 
 
A RUN-AWAY. I47 
 
 that his exchequer was low, that the underhand conduct 
 of the Governor prevented his drawing his pay, and 
 finally that £2^ was wanted and that for that sum he 
 could draw a bill on his father, Lord Piccadilly. 
 
 Mr. Tinker, in all his commercial transactions, had never 
 cashed a bill drawn on a live lord ; and besides that, he was 
 quite won over by Portman, so in exchange for the bit of 
 paper which Mr. Tinker regarded with a degree of rever- 
 ence, he handed Mr. Portman twenty-five sovereigns. 
 
 " Not that I would have done it for any one else*' he 
 remarked, " as it's not strictly business, but I look on you 
 as a victim to oppression and down-trodden by that 
 Fairfax." 
 
 Mr. Portman made no objection to the transaction on 
 this ground, and in due time having got his carpet bag 
 he stepped on board the Eider, was commended to the 
 purser's care by Mr. Tinker, with whom he had a parting 
 Soda and B, and took up his quarters in his cabin. In 
 due time the steamer started, and as it did not call at St. 
 Maria our friend was very easy in his mind. 
 
 Of his subsequent adventures I know little, except that 
 he came utterly to grief ; his 'poor mother " to save his 
 honour" as she pathetically put it, paid up his deficiences, 
 and the last I heard of him was that his death was 
 advertised. Subsequently to that, however, a friend who 
 had been a lieutenant on board H.M.S. Iris, and had 
 become acquainted with Portman in St. Maria, was 
 visited one night in London, by a wretched broken-down 
 creature whom he recognised as Portman, and to whom 
 he gave refreshments and alms ; and that is the last I 
 heard of Cavendish Portman of St. Maria. 
 
148 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 That ^"25 bill held by Mr. Tinker, however, was never 
 honoured, and it was not prudent to refer to it in the 
 hearing of Mr. Tinker, who not long ago, passed away. 
 
 A ZOOLOGICAL SPECIMEN. 
 
 OLD Punshon, the Honourable Jabez Punshon, of 
 St. Maria, was very fond of natural history, and 
 at one time eager on forming a menagerie, to 
 which end he rather pestered his neighbours and friends 
 for specimens. Like a good many collectors he was fond 
 of using scientific terms, and rarely called an animal by 
 its common name, a bit of pedantry which greatly amused 
 his friends. 
 
 Once there was a vacancy on his staff, and he 
 was difficult to please. A good many applicants had 
 presented themselves without success, when, one after- 
 noon as he was half dozing in his gallery, a tall and 
 rather woe-begone young man, who evidently was " seeing 
 hard times," came up the steps. The butler-boy met him 
 and conveyed the letter he had brought to his master, 
 who hastily read it. 
 
 " Eh, what," he said — " a specimen ! Where is it ?" — 
 and Mr. Punshon jumped off his chair — " Where is it?" 
 
 The stranger observed that Mr. Fitzwagg, of Boodles, 
 the next estate, had given him the letter. 
 
 Mr. Punshon therefore re-read the missive and turned 
 very red. " Confound his impudence," he called out, 
 and the next moment burst into a fit of uncontrollable 
 laughter. 
 
An Important Crisis. 149 
 
 The poor visitor murmured " a good afternoon, sir," 
 and turned to go away. 
 
 " Stop, my man ! wait a bit," said Mr. Punshon, who 
 was a little ashamed of having laughed at the lad and 
 also touched at his evident distress — " Let me hear where 
 you have been working." 
 
 A conversation ensued, and the visitor's face brightened 
 a good deal as he went away " an engaged party." 
 
 " Confound that fellow Fitzwagg's impudence, what 
 does he say ? " Mr. Punshon inquired of himself, and for 
 an answer referred to the letter : — 
 
 My Dear Mr. Punshon, 
 
 I send you on approval a very decent specimen of the 
 "episcopus carapestris," quite tame, which, I think, you will 
 like. If you do not, just turn him loose and he will find his way 
 home all right. Yours truly, 
 
 A. Fitzwagg. 
 
 " Episcopus campestris ! " that's poking fun at me, — 
 of course it is a sort of bogus scientific name for field 
 overseer. I'll be even with you some day, Fitzwagg, 
 and as for your specimen, I hope the poor devil will 
 suit me and the place suit him. Boy ! a sangaree !" 
 
 AN IMPORTANT CRISIS. 
 
 BATHSHEBA is an unsanctified Island. I mean 
 it does not bear the name, as so many of them 
 do, of a calendared Saint; but, by way of 
 recompense, it has — or had — an Ice-house where cool 
 drinks and dainty refections could be obtained all the day 
 long. The drinking saloon was well provided with tables 
 and cosy chairs, and there was a bar, behind which the 
 
150 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 civilest bar-men dispensed delicious decoctions. A mis- 
 guided and military friend of mine one day undertook to 
 drink through the list of liquors whose appellations shone 
 in enamelled glass from a series of frames hung across 
 and round the room. Ill-fated youth ! He began with 
 Siegert's bitters, followed by brandy, sherry, Bass's beer, 
 champagne — and then he faltered. Guiness's stout was 
 the next on the list, and he took some, but with disastrous 
 results that necessitated his being conveyed to his quarters 
 without delay. 
 
 The arrival of the ice ship with its welcome cargo, in 
 which were imbedded choice meat and oysters, fish, par- 
 tridges, grouse, pheasants, &c, was an event: Gourmets 
 hurried to the well-known store and selected what they 
 wanted, and for days after they would compare notes with 
 one another as to the flavour of this, and the tenderness 
 of that, until their eyes glistened and their mouths 
 watered. Bathsheba was not an eventful place, and could 
 afford to be stirred to its inmost — well we'll say — heart 
 by the advent of these luxuries. It was the one thing 
 expected, enjoyed and remembered until the next vessel 
 came. 
 
 H.M.S. Lily had her steam up, and the Governor was 
 to go in her to a distant island on matters of importance. 
 The Legislature was reported to be ready to change the 
 constitution — all had been prepared by the Lieutenant 
 Governor. The opposition had been won over ; the press 
 (one paper which appeared at most unexpected times) 
 was propitious ; all that was wanted was the presence of 
 the Governor-:n-Chief to — as it was forcibly put — clinch 
 the nail. This change of constitution was a nail "■ the 
 
An Important Crisis. 151 
 
 Office" had been hammering at for some time, and 
 Governors, great and small, had done their best to drive 
 it home. It was therefore a case of " now or never," and 
 the Governor made arrangements accordingly. Matters 
 of importance to Bathsheba yielded to the affairs of St. 
 Molasses. A big supply of official paper was laid in, 
 uniforms packed up, and memoranda as to local affairs 
 dictated to the Private Secretary and his clerks, and every- 
 thing was in a state of hurry-skurry ; in the midst of 
 which a venerable and conscientious official demanded 
 audience. The Governor looked at his watch, there was 
 hardly time, — but poor old Mr. Jakes had come up all the 
 way from town, and so he was admitted. 
 
 Now there are officials who never worry a Governor 
 unless there is reason. Such men will plod away in their 
 offices and never dream of wishing " to see His Excel- 
 lency." While there are others who have always some- 
 thing to suggest, something to fuss and worry about, and 
 who would despair of their official salvation were they to 
 omit seeing the Governor four days out of sir, and all 
 about nothing ; but old Jakes was not one of these latter. 
 
 The Governor explained how pressed he was for time, 
 and Mr. Jakes occupied a good deal of that time in 
 apologising for his intrusion, but his business was im- 
 portant, still if His Excellency was occupied he would 
 come again. 
 
 But the Governor preferred having it over ; and as Mr. 
 Jakes's business was merely to express doubts as to the 
 steadiness of a junior clerk, no great time was consumed. 
 Still he sate on, in that dreadful way in which some men 
 when they have said their say and done what they come 
 
t$2 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 to do, will linger on; but there came an interruption. 
 The Governor's servant brought a message that the 
 luggage was on board and the Captain waiting. 
 
 Now Captains R.N. are mighty men, and, as a rule, 
 dislike carrying Governors about, and so His Excellency 
 jumped up and told Mr. Jakes he must really run away. 
 " On his return,"— 
 
 " On your return, Your Excellency ! may I ask where 
 are you going ?" 
 
 " Going, Mr. Jakes ? Well, I am going to St. Molasses 
 in the Lily, and it is time I was on board — " 
 
 " St. Molasses !" said Mr. Jakes in a thin piping voice ; 
 " St. Molasses I" and here he began to cough in a most 
 distressing way. 
 
 You can't well leave a visitor — even an official visitor — 
 black in the face with a sudden cough, but His Excel- 
 lency grew very impatient. 
 
 As Mr. Jakes recovered himself, he gasped, " Going 
 to leave Bathsheba at this crisis ?" 
 
 "Crisis!" asked the Governor, "What d'ye mean by 
 crisis, Mr. Jakes ?" 
 
 " Yes, Your Excellency, I may call it crisis*' — 
 
 " Why, what's the matter ?" 
 
 " Well, Sir, are you are aware that the " and here 
 
 his cough recommenced. 
 
 The Governor's face was a study. " Aware of what, 
 Mr. Jakes ?" he thundered out. " What is this crisis ?" 
 
 "Why— Your Ex— Excellency THE ICE SHIP IS 
 SIGNALLED ! !" 
 
 Now the Governor was a good pious man, but he said 
 a naughty word with a big D — as he strode from the 
 
Collections. 153 
 
 room, leaving Mr. Jakes struggling with the last notes of 
 his troublesome cough. 
 
 » 
 
 COLLECTIONS. 
 
 SOME years ago, in a snake-infested West Indian 
 island, the Legislature voted the means of paying 
 a reward of a shilling for every head of the 
 deadly reptile brought to the authorities. Then a London 
 savant, who wished to analyse the poison, requested that 
 the heads be sent to him, and to this end strong rum was 
 forwarded to the several police stations, so that the heads 
 collected might be preserved therein. 
 
 The heat of the climate presumably caused such an 
 extraordinary degree of evaporation of the spirit that the 
 supplies had to be frequently renewed, and the waste 
 was not checked until evaporation was retarded, if not 
 prevented, by the admixture of a strong dose of carbolic 
 
 acid with the rum. 
 
 1 
 
 The collection went on capitally. The supply of 
 serpent heads was plentiful, and there seemed a prospect 
 of the island being rid of these pests. Time passed and 
 still there came these snake heads, until it was found that 
 the wily Creoles were importing them from a neighbouring 
 island, whereupon the premium was reduced to a penny 
 and the supply ceased. 
 
 This reminds me of a planter in Barataria whose cane 
 fields were ravaged by mole-crickets*, — an insect which 
 with its formidable mandibles bites off the young cane 
 
 * Eryllotalpa. 
 
154 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 shoots. My friend set all the small people on his estate 
 to collect these ■ varmint,' and promised a 'tampee or 
 penny a tumbler full. He soon got plenty of them. 
 Every morning there would be a small mob of Creole 
 children, each with his collection, for which the promised 
 reward was given for the insects destroyed. There seemed 
 however no diminution in the catch. Week after week 
 the mole-crickets poured in, and the outlay became rather 
 serious. So one morning the " maninger" informed his 
 small hearers that " he no able fo' gie tampee, dese ting 
 too easy fo' catch, so he give ha'penny for a tumbler full 
 after to-day." 
 
 There was a howl of remonstrance from the little 
 darkies, one of whom called out " Maninger we hab to 
 " fetch dese ting all de way from Richmond Park." 
 
 Now Richmond Park belonged to another man with 
 whom our friend's relations were the reverse of friendly, 
 and he learned too late that he had been paying to clear 
 his enemy's fields of mole-crickets. 
 
 The rat-catcher is an important person on some island 
 estates. Followed by a couple of mongrel curs, he 
 saunters through the estate and makes his " bag," 
 which is duly produced to the overseer who certifies the 
 number killed. 
 
 There is so little confidence between man and man 
 that the tails of the captured are cut off lest an animal be 
 produced a second time and secure a double premium. 
 
 In Barataria, one manager used to set down on his pay- 
 list the names of four rat-catchers : Bill, Jack, Bob, &c, 
 as earning a pound a month each, and who were never 
 absent from work. It is true they were his own terriers, 
 
Shakespere in the Tropics. 155 
 
 but this was a fact not generally known, not even to the 
 proprietor. 
 
 Collectors are not appreciated by the humbler class of 
 Creoles. One day, a geologist who had made a weary 
 tramp from the northern end of the island, halted at my 
 house where he was an expected guest. He was at once 
 ushered within doors, and handed over to the care and 
 attention of the hostess, while I attended to the disposal 
 of his luggage. ' Peter,' one of the most rascally of the 
 town porters, bore a Gladstone bag in one hand, while 
 over his shoulder was a carpet ditto slung to the end of a 
 stout stick and apparently somewhat heavy to carry. 
 
 " Aow, me Gad !" said Peter as he lowered the last 
 named bag to the ground, " whanex buckrado? Hegopick 
 up pick up stone all along and go fill dis bag till me back 
 mos' bruck, Massa ! you think it harm s'pose me go 
 empty dis bag and fill up when me get nearer town ?" 
 
 I rather discouraged this idea of Peter's, and having 
 secured the specimens, warned my friend as to Peter's 
 probable dodge. 
 
 SHAKESPERE IN THE TROPICS. 
 
 I have met two very worthy men, instances of love 
 of Chess and intimate knowledge and appreciation 
 of Shakspere being united in the same person. 
 In St. Maria, there was a Mr. Paul, an official, whose 
 leisure was spent over the chess board, or the " Divine 
 William." To him life seemed to have no other aim than 
 to work out and follow openings and gambits, or discover 
 fresh beauties in his only author. He was a tall gaunt 
 
156 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 man with a singularly gentle manner, he wore his hair 
 rather long, and the pallor of his face contrasted with 
 weak pink-rimmed eyes and a red nose, which latter, as 
 Paul had been from childhood a strict abstainer, was 
 due to chronic dyspepsia. His appearance and manner 
 however had obtained for him the unkind and undeserved 
 sobriquets of "Stiggins," and "The Shepherd." The 
 only times that Paul shewed signs of temper were when 
 his idolized author was misquoted or in any way dis- 
 paraged J then, he really was no longer himself, his eyes 
 would fill with tears, or his contorted features would show 
 the difficulty he had in repressing his anger. 
 
 Our friend worked on qufetly and patiently, never 
 seeking promotion or change; but one day, a vacancy 
 occurred in St Molasses, where it was deemed advisable 
 to import new blood, and so to Paul's surprise he was 
 offered advancement to a well paid post in that island. 
 
 The Creoles of St. Molasses, who were jealous of in- 
 truders, and had an idea that St. Molasses was for the St. 
 Molassians and none others, might well have been those 
 of whom Marryat wrote that they were the proudest 
 people on earth exeept fan-tailed pigeons. They prided 
 themselves on their country and all appertaining to it; 
 even on their peculiar mode of speech, for the St. Mo- 
 lasses folk suffered from a chronic diaeresis which con- 
 verted their canes into caytins and their roads into roads. 
 So peculiar were the St. Molassians that Paul's friends who 
 had vouched for his efficiency and steadiness were pleased to 
 find that he, after a few days, had been well received 
 in his new home.' He soon proved his ability ; he was 
 intelligent and prompt as well as polite to the public, who 
 
Shakespere in the Tropics. 157 
 
 at first were a little startled at Shakesperian quotations 
 being mixed with official communications ; but that was 
 Paul's way. 
 
 Every one who knew him, therefore, was horrified to hear 
 that he had on an evening some months after his arrival, 
 misconducted himself in public, had been intoxicated, 
 and had narrowly escaped being locked up ; and this 
 report, of course, had been carried to the Governor as 
 evidence of the natural result of bringing strangers into 
 the St. Molasses' official circle. It was very sad to find 
 that the scene of the escapade was in River Road, the 
 most disreputable quarter of the town, and at Poll Flana- 
 gan's, the least respectable house in it, where there was a 
 large room usually the scene of dignities and objection- 
 able orgies. 
 
 As soon as I heard of this, I sought " The Shepherd" 
 in his office, and found him as meek and mild as usual, 
 attending to his work, and certainly shewing no signs of 
 any " ruction." As delicately as was possible, the story 
 of his misdoing was introduced. " The Shepherd" blushed 
 and stammered out an admission that the report was in 
 some respects correct, but he would explain. 
 
 It turned out that my friend had been attracted by a 
 notice that the Rivertown Amateurs would give a repre- 
 sentation of Shakspere's Richard the 3rd ; and finding his 
 way to Poll Flanagan's whose salon de danse had been 
 converted into a temporary theatre, he obtained a front 
 seat. The arrangements were simple ; the footlights a 
 row of candles protected from the wind by shades of all 
 sorts and shapes, while the curtain was composed of 
 flags. The audience consisted almost entirely of the 
 
158 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 lower orders ; and among them Poll's female friends mus- 
 tered strongly. 
 
 Any one but a simple creature like Paul would have 
 hesitated at assisting at a performance in such company, 
 but he had but one idea, one desire, viz., to see his beloved 
 author's work on the stage. To him it would be a novelty, 
 since of theatricals there were none in St. Maria, and so 
 he sate on, unmindful of the heat and odours that oppressed 
 him, and deaf to the ' orchestra/ a horn, and drum, 
 which discoursed discordant music. 
 
 When the curtain rose and Gloster appeared, Paul was 
 much moved, for he was not prepared to recognize as 
 Gloster, a tall weedy man, whose black face frowned and 
 scowled from beneath a red cap with three white feathers, 
 his dress being an artillery man's tunic, bound round the 
 waist with a sash of red cloth from which hung a cavalry 
 sabre, white duck trousers rolled up above the knee, 
 shining leather leggings and white canvas shoes with 
 spurs attached. 
 
 As the actor strode up and down awaiting the con- 
 clusion of ' Cheer boys, Cheer,' by the band, Paul's ex- 
 citement increased ; he half rose from his seat and con- 
 vulsively clutched his umbrella, and when the Island 
 Roscius burst forth in the St. Molasses' tongue with 
 " Now is the wintur of our discontent maade glorious 
 «' by the sun of Yo-ork," poor Paul could restrain himself 
 no longer ; with a yell he dashed across the footlights 
 smashing two of them, and rushing at the affrighted 
 Gloster, smote him to the ground with his umbrella. The 
 rest of the corps dramatique and some of the audience 
 came to the rescue, but " The Shepherd" cleared a way 
 
Captain Heeps, U.S.N. 159 
 
 with his gingham and escaped at an open door ; then 
 followed a chase down River Road, in which the police 
 were distanced by the fleeter Paul. 
 
 In the early morning, the sable Gloster received a visit, 
 apologies and pecuniary compensation, and so the matter 
 ended. Paul, admonished by the Executive, promised 
 never again to attend Shaksperian performances in St. 
 Molasses, where he remained for some years, a very 
 deserving and useful official. 
 
 CAPTAIN HEEPS, U.S.N. 
 
 CAPTAIN Hiram T. Heeps, U.S.N., commanded 
 the corvette, Scudder, in West Indian waters, in 
 the year 18 — . He had just looked in at a good 
 many parts, but had stayed at others, and at length we 
 in St. Maria were honoured with a visit. 
 
 The Captain and officers mounted on horses or mules, 
 explored the vicinity ot the town the first day of their 
 arrival, and were hospitably received. 
 
 At 7 p.m., Captain Heeps was due at Government 
 House, but he was late, — a hardly pardonable sin in those 
 days, and the company sate down without him. 
 
 The party comprised the Commanding Royal En- 
 gineer, a very stately officer, who was a great stickler 
 for etiquette, H.M. Attorney General, a white-headed 
 dear old man with massive gold spectacles and a gentle 
 manner, the U.S. Consul, who had been a naval officer 
 and other things before he represented his country, and 
 dispensed rope, tar, yarn and spars to the needy 
 mariners, who called him fellow country man, a Planter, 
 
160 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 who cultivated canes, race horses, and unlimited loo, and 
 a Surgeon Major. There were, of course, the Governor 
 and his Secretary. 
 
 Soup had hardly been got through when Captain Heeps 
 appeared with an unsteady gait and many apologies. He 
 tried the bisque, but could not manage it, however he 
 tossed off a glass of sherry, and began to talk. 
 
 " Excellency ! you hev' been in the U-nited States, I 
 believe." 
 
 The Governor nodded assent. 
 
 " You may have become acquainted with Admiral 
 James Porter of our service." 
 
 His Excellency said * No,' he had not that honour. 
 
 " Wall ! he was called King James on account of the 
 austerity of his manners." 
 
 The other guests stared, but in politeness said " In- 
 deed." 
 
 " Yes, Sir ! Admiral James Porter of our service was 
 called King James on account of the austerity of his 
 manners, and I am about with your permission, to tell you 
 an anecdote of Admiral James Porter, who, I may ob- 
 serve, was called King James on account of the austerity 
 of his manners, which has never yet appeared in print — " 
 
 The company was all attention. 
 
 " I was going to remark that Admiral James Porter, 
 who was called King James on account of the ? 
 
 " Yes," politely said the Attorney General, — 
 
 " Austerity of his manners (continued the Captain) 
 commanded on the Potomac. You will recollect that 
 the Admiral was a man, who, on account of his 
 
Captain Heeps, U.S.N. 161 
 
 "You were about to tell us of what he did on the 
 Potomac, I presume," said the Governor. 
 
 " Excellency ! right you air. I was about to tell you 
 an anecdote never yet appearing in print about my old 
 friend Admiral James Porter of our service, who — " 
 
 " He commanded on the Potomac, I think you said." 
 
 " He did so, Sir ! I am glad you are aware of that 
 fact, I may also add that on account of the austerity — " 
 
 Well, you know the politest of Governors and Gover- 
 nors' guests could not stand this, and so one took wine 
 with the Captain, and the others all began to talk, but 
 still ever and anon through the hum of voices and clatter 
 of knife and fork would come the nasal tones of Captain 
 Heeps insisting on the fact of Admiral James Porter 
 being called King James on account, &c, &c. 
 
 Dinner was finished, and it being the evening on which 
 there was a card and billiard party, the wine and dessert 
 were got over rather rapidly, and the guests prepared to 
 go, some upstairs to cards, others down to billiards. 
 
 " Captain Heeps !" said His Excellency " you will 
 join in a rubber, won't you ? But we do not play long 
 whist as I remember so many do in the States, but short, 
 still I hope— " 
 
 "Excellency! Short or long it's all the same to me, 
 whichever Your Excellency darn pleases." 
 
 This mixture of politeness and slang upset the Gover- 
 nor so that the Secretary interposed. 
 
 " I thought Captain Heeps, you would prefer billiards, 
 and that you would come with me/' 
 
 " Secretary !" assented the Captain, " you bet ! that'll 
 suit me down to the ground f and taking the Secretary's 
 arm off he went. x 
 
1 62 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 Arrived in the billiard room, Captain Heeps carefully 
 removed his uniform coat, unfastened his braces and 
 twisted them round his waist, rolled his shirt sleeves up 
 to the elbows and selected a cue. 
 
 " What's that ?" he asked pointing to the balls. 
 " Guess I play the four ball game." 
 
 The Secretary, whose billiard education was defective, 
 regretted he did not know it, and the Captain resignedly 
 commenced to play the English game. 
 
 From some reason, perhaps the advent of a man 
 servant in gorgeous livery with a tray of glasses, and 
 wherewithal to fill them, the Captain did not succeed in 
 hitting a ball, or anything indeed except the cloth, so at 
 last he grounded his cue, and said, " Secretary ! Guess I 
 shouldn't make five cents out of you at this, if I was to play 
 all night. No! Sir T 
 
 Presently came in the Consul and other guests, and 
 the party engaged in conversation rather than billiards 
 until Captain Heeps, seizing a cue and arranging some 
 balls on the table, offered to bet the Consul (Counsel he 
 called him) ten dollars he would make this stroke. 
 
 The Consul declined ; he never betted money. 
 
 " Wall, then" remarked the Captain " let it be drinks, 
 — drinks for the company." 
 
 Everyone was of course startled at this, and still more 
 so when the gallant mariner having missed the ball, called 
 out to the bewildered domestic — 
 
 " Bhoy, take the gentlemen's orders." 
 
 Josephus did not move. 
 
 " Now, be smart ; gentlemen, name your drinks." 
 
 There was only one out way of it, so the Secretary said 
 he would take brandy and soda. 
 
Snakes. 163 
 
 His politeness was rewarded by a heavy slap on the 
 back from Captain Heeps, who remarked — 
 
 " Secretary, I esteem a man whatever his nationality, 
 who has his mind ready made up as to drinks. Gentle- 
 men, will you order if you please." 
 
 Some of the guests complied with the request of the 
 Captain, who then addressed the astonished Josephus 
 thus — 
 
 "Now, Bhoy, you chalk up that to me, Hiram T. 
 Heeps, d'ye see, and you take partickler darned care I 
 don't leave the bar without pay in'. It's a bad trick I've 
 got, but " 
 
 The door had opened, and His Excellency was on the 
 threshold, looking anything but satisfied. 
 
 After a while, Captain Heeps was conducted home by 
 the Consul, declaring as he was slowly moving away that 
 he should use his influence at the White House to get his 
 friend, the Secretary, nominated as 'Counsel' for St. 
 Maria ; and that the Governor reminded him of Admiral 
 James Porter, who on account of the austerity of his 
 manners, was called 
 
 SNAKES. 
 
 I ONCE was calling at a certain Government House 
 and found there a minister and his wife who had 
 lately arrived from St. Sinners. The Gorernor's 
 wife was evidently doing her best to engage her visitors 
 in conversation, but they were both very shy. At length 
 however she asked : — " I believe the snakes in St, 
 Sinners are very numerous ?" 
 
1 64 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 "Oh! very/' 
 
 " And their bite is fatal?" 
 
 " Oh yes ! most fatal. If you get bitten, you die 
 immediately. " 
 
 " Sometimes sooner than that, William," added the 
 lady visitor by way of helping on the conversation. 
 
 "And what is the name of your most poisonous 
 snake ?" 
 
 "Ah well, my lady, I confess I never studied the 
 botanical names of the snakes." 
 
 Then the talk languished, and soon faded out. 
 
 A RETURN HOME. 
 
 IT was a calm moonlight night in July. The R.M.S. 
 Niger was going at rather more than contract rate, 
 and her passengers were speculating on arriving at 
 Plymouth in something like 60 hours. There was a good 
 many on board, but the ship was not overcrowded, and 
 there was space on deck for a promenade without risk of 
 a collision with other people's chairs or a stumble over 
 their outstretched legs. Several couples were pacing up 
 and down, some more leisurely than others, stopping 
 occasionally to listen to a Spaniard who, gifted with a 
 tenor voice of no ordinary quality, was singing to his own 
 accompaniment on the guitar before an admiring audience. 
 Others were chatting in little groups, and from one or 
 other of these, every now and then there would come a 
 loud boisterous laugh that drowned the singer's voice. In 
 the saloon were a few solemn silent whist players with 
 
A Return Home. 165 
 
 some lookers-on at their game, while round a table 
 forward was gathered a large party engaged in monte. 
 All nations were represented there. One silly English 
 boy with a cigar in his mouth, — a lieutenant going home 
 on sick leave, was winning silver and losing gold. There 
 were flabby-faced Hamburg Jews whose fingers looked 
 all the dirtier for the many rings on them, — men on whom 
 varying fortune appeared to have no effect, save when a 
 grunt that might have been an oath, escaped their lips. 
 There were lean brown men with quick furtive eyes, hail- 
 ing from South American republics where life is rarely safe, 
 men who watched the banker's hands and cards suspi- 
 ciously. One tall white-faced Danish Official from St. 
 Thomas with oddly-shaped cap and golden badge, 
 peered through his great round spectacles, and seemed to 
 risk and often to lose large sums that spoke well for the 
 liberality of his government. There was a young Scotch- 
 man, a coffee planter from Costa Rica, lounging against 
 his cabin door, who between puffs at his cigarette, threw 
 down his stakes with a nonchalant air, and lazily stretch- 
 ing forward, lifted his winnings which were frequent and 
 considerable. On the table were exposed larger or 
 smaller heaps of coin, and these melted or were swollen 
 as the chances of the game varied. The scene was a 
 strange one and with the glare and heat and the atmos- 
 phere thick with tobacco smoke, and heavy with a mixture 
 of odours, some of them not the pleasantest in the world, 
 it contrasted strangely with that on deck, where the 
 night air was cool and fresh, and the silvery moonbeams 
 the only light. 
 There was one gamester whom we have not as yet 
 
1 66 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 noticed, — a tall young Englishman with features that 
 would have been handsome, but for an expression of 
 anxiety and anger that sate upon them. He was pale, and 
 the nervous twitching of his lips shewed that for him the 
 game had a more than painful interest. The money 
 before him had disappeared by degrees, as had the coins 
 with which he. continued his stakes, till at length, one 
 unlucky card appeared, and he pushed all the money 
 before him to the centre of the table. Thrusting back 
 his chair, with a muttered oath, he strode from the 
 saloon through the crowd of gamblers. 
 
 " Hard hit !" observed the lieutenant with a heartless 
 laugh as he took his cigar from his lips. 
 
 "Pobre diablo!" muttered a Chilian, sweeping into 
 his pocket a pile of glittering gold pieces. 
 
 Robert — the Honourable Robert Rossdale, — for so was 
 the Englishman called, paid no heed to their remarks, 
 beyond casting a defiant glance at the group as he mounted 
 the companion. Then threading his way towards the 
 stern, presently found himself near a lady and gentleman, 
 who seated in deck chairs, were conversing in a tone 
 sufficiently loud to be heard by Rossdale, who sauntering 
 behind them, quietly sank into a chair he found there. 
 
 The lady was about twenty-five, a little somewhat 
 below the medium stature, with a figure the graceful out- 
 lines of which would have displeased the aesthete of 
 now a days, so far was it removed from any thing angular 
 and unwholesome. Her features was not very striking. 
 Some people called hers a baby face ; it perhaps had no 
 claim to any higher style of beauty, being rather round 
 than oval, with a mouth which was perfect in its way, 
 
A Return Home. 167 
 
 only a little too apt to disclose teeth which were white and 
 regular. The face was set in a frame of golden hair, 
 left much to its natural mode of growth, that is, not 
 frizzed and fuzzed out in a wad over the forehead, but 
 rippling round a pair of shell-like ears, and caught up in 
 a big knot that to some appeared untidy, but which was 
 very fair to behold. Reclining in her chair, amid the 
 folds of an overcoat of a rather masculine cut, which al- 
 lowed two dainty feet to be seen, and crowned with a soft 
 crushable hat, that was perhaps more suitable for a man, 
 Mary Grenville, widow, would have made a pretty 
 picture. 
 
 Her companion was tall and powerfully built with 
 features that recalled those of some hero of Greek sculp- 
 ture ; a rather sad face when in repose as that of one who 
 had been disappointed in life, but capable of brightening 
 up with a flashing eye, and a mouth almost as eloquent 
 in silence as in speech ; for there is a dumb language 
 ot which some lips have the gift: On the occasion of 
 which we speak, John Lancaster's face wore a rather 
 amused look, as with hat drawn over his brow he sate 
 back in his chair with appreciative eye and listening with 
 attentive ear to his neighbour. 
 
 "Not been home for years?" said the lady, "why 
 how changed you will find everthing and" every one too !'* 
 
 " No ! Mrs. Grenville, I shall find no change in people. 
 I shall be spared that, simply because I shall know no 
 one, and no one will know me." 
 
 " You strange creature ! what do you mean ?" 
 
 " What I say. When I left London thirty years ago, I 
 Was a penniless, friendless lad, I have since picked up 
 
1 68 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 some pennies it is true, but as for friends—" and the 
 speaker shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " You mean I suppose that you do not care to renew 
 the friendships, — the associations of bye gone days " 
 
 " Forgive me, but you are quite wrong there ; you do 
 not know how I should welcome one friend, one com- 
 panion of my boyhood, but mine was a queer hard life, 
 and I was little more than a child when I came to the 
 West Indies." 
 
 " Some day, you must tell me your history Mr. 
 Lancaster." 
 
 " Some day ! well then, it must be now, for in two 
 days we part, and I dare not hope we shall meet again." 
 
 " You wish then that our parting at Southampton may 
 not be final ?" 
 
 " Mrs. Grenville !" 
 
 "Mr. Lancaster!" 
 
 " You are laughing at me." 
 
 " Indeed no, why should I ? We have made ourselves, 
 I suppose I may say, very agreeable to each other on the 
 voyage — I'm sure you have, and I hope I have — so why 
 on earth should you think I laughed at the idea of the 
 acquaintance continuing ? You say you don't intend re- 
 turning to the West Indies, and I have settled all my 
 affairs there and don't propose ever going back; you tell 
 me you have picked up pennies, meaning, I conclude, 
 dollars, and Charles— that is my poor husband' — was 
 well off and generous enough to leave me all he had ; so 
 no doubt I shall settle down and live in the same 
 style, as you will ; we shall often meet, and it will be 
 very pleasant ; — likest thou the picture ?" she added after 
 a pause* quoting Claude Melnotte. 
 
A Return Home. 169 
 
 " I would like it better if you were serious." 
 " I am." 
 
 " It is hard for me to shew you why such a prospect is 
 very tempting to me, and why I fear to hope that I may 
 realize it." 
 
 " Of course, if Mr. Lancaster talks riddles, and rates 
 people for not being serious, and looks very gloomy, and 
 glum and ghost-like in the moonlight, one can only wait 
 until he pleases to make himself intelligible. I am all 
 attention ;" and Mrs. Grenville wrapped her light ulster 
 more closely around her, and leaning her head on the 
 side of the chair nearest her companion looked at him 
 out of her great blue eyes, while a rather saucy smile 
 played about the corners of her mouth. 
 " Now then," said she, * begin." 
 " Mary" — said Mr. Lancaster. 
 
 " Why, that is my name !" said the widow, and then, 
 after a pause and in a half whisper, she added, "Yes, 
 John!" 
 
 Their eyes met, and John Lancaster laid his open hand 
 on the elbow of his chair, and some little fingers that 
 shyly stole into it, were gently imprisoned. 
 
 " Mary," said Lancaster after a long pause, " I cannot 
 begin my history as you call it." 
 
 " Why, can't you do as the story books do ? — • Once 
 upon a time' — or, ' I was born of humble though res- 
 pectable parents' ?" 
 " I cannot begin so." 
 
 " If your parents were not respectable you need not say 
 so, — I want to know about you. If they were not humble 
 but were somebodies, so much the better, you know." 
 
 Y 
 
170 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 " I don't know who they were ; that's all." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " I was a foundling. God only knows who my parents 
 were. I was bred in a workhouse — a sort of Oliver 
 Twist, and then I ran away, shipped as a cabin boy, 
 got more licks than ha'pence as the saying is, was taken 
 on as a house boy by a planter in St. Molasses, became 
 in time an overseer, then manager — bought an estate — 
 lost it — resumed the life of an overseer, emigrated to 
 Demerara — then went to the Main — worked in one gold 
 mine — discovered another ; and then came success and 
 wealth. That's my story." 
 
 " It's rather an eventful one, somewhat romantic too, 
 but you must tell me all. You know no romance is 
 perfect without a love story in it." 
 
 "Love story!" and Mr. Lancaster laughed. " I have 
 none to tell." 
 
 " None at all ?" 
 
 "None, save that I love you," said Lancaster in a 
 changed and eager tone, ?' and that if, now you know the 
 story of my life, you are content to make what may 
 remain of it to me, a recompense for all I have before 
 suffered, I shall be very proud, — very happy." 
 
 Mrs. Grenville made no reply. 
 
 " Well ; is it * yes/ or ' no,' Mary ?" 
 
 u It is not * No/ John." 
 
 And then the two faces approached each other with a 
 not uncommon result. 
 
 " I want you to promise me one thing" said Mrs. 
 Grenville after some moments. 
 
 "And that is?" 
 
A Return Home. 171 
 
 " I don't like your friend, Mr. Rossdale. Are you so 
 linked to each other that you cannot drop him ?" 
 
 " Why do you not like him, Mary ? You have only 
 known him during this voyage." 
 
 " Because he's no good : he is a rascal, and a mean one 
 into the bargain." 
 
 " My dear Mary ! these are strong words" 
 
 " Not too strong though. He has been as good as 
 dismissed from his appointment, and even the money 
 you gave him " 
 
 " I gave him !" 
 
 " Yes, I saw this afternoon the way in which he was 
 wheedling you, and my eyes and ears were sharp enough 
 to detect you giving him the means to visit the monte 
 table." 
 
 " What I lent him wont hnrt me." 
 
 " I don't say it will — give as much as you like — lend 
 as much as you like, but not to a fellow like that ; he 
 looks sometimes as if he could stab you. I half believe 
 he has the * evil eye' a Neapolitan friend once told me 
 of." 
 
 " I think, dearest, you are a little hard on poor Rossdale. 
 He's well connected — good family you know, and " 
 
 "And has thrown away what advantages that gave 
 him, his good family has enabled him to supplant 
 better men, and has saved him from what has been dealt 
 out to men less culpable, whose names do not appear in 
 Burke or Debrett." 
 
 "Why, you are a democrat, Mary! I did not know a 
 sprig of nobility would have made you so angry/' 
 
 "I am angry, because I am not a democrat, and 
 
\*]2 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 because I hate to see old names, old families, dragged 
 into the dirt by fellows like that." 
 
 As Mrs. Greville spoke, her companion marked how 
 her soft * baby face* lit up and the almost fierce light ot 
 her blue eyes which in repose seemed like cloudless 
 skies : and to him her features under the influence of her 
 angry emotion appeared all the more beautiful. 
 
 Robert Rossdale was, as Lancaster had said, of good 
 family — good that is, in the sense of being ancient, and 
 of frequent mention in byegone and stirring times. The 
 Rossdales had been crusaders, had shed their blood in 
 many a fight. Their name was to be found in old records 
 of pageants, plots, and parliaments ; but of late they had 
 been noted chiefly for their aptitude for getting rid of 
 their money, and encumbering their old castle home and 
 the remaining lands, so that at this time the younger sons 
 had to work for a living, Robert had tried soldiering, 
 and had passed an examination with tolerable ease, for 
 he was in some respects no fool; but he had never 
 acquired the art of making both ends meet, and so a 
 shabby bill transaction that found its way into the papers 
 ended his military career. Then he was sent to St. 
 Maria, but the work was uncongenial, and amusement 
 there was none. It was impossible to win more than a 
 dollar a day from the fools who played with him at 
 billiards, or any of the card games of which he seemed to 
 know no end, and there his salary, as a larger one would 
 have done, fell short of his requirements ; then a defi- 
 ciency in his cash deprived the Government of that 
 favouied island of Mr. Rossdale's services, and so he had 
 shipped in the Niger. Everyone wondered how he got 
 
A Return Home. 173 
 
 off, and his creditors were angry to see he had flown, but 
 Rossdale had observed the Sabbath for once, and know- 
 ing that bailiffs were powerless on that day, he waited till 
 he was lucky enough to find the steamer's arrival and 
 departure happen on that day of rest and sanctuary. He 
 had heard of Mrs. Grenville, and was glad of the luck 
 that had thrown her in his way, for he thought it would 
 be rather a good business to captivate her and secure her 
 fortune ; but although he laid his plans cleverly, and 
 made his advances cautiously, the widow gave him no 
 encouragement, until on one occasion, when he became 
 bolder in his attack, she repulsed him in a way that 
 taught him the game was up in that quarter. As he sate 
 there in the shade, watching Lancaster and Mrs. Gren- 
 ville, he had heard much of what had passed. The 
 widow's denunciation of him called up an ugly smile, and 
 although he was not exactly jealous of Lancaster, Mrs. 
 Grenville's rejection of his proferred attentions was 
 neither forgotten nor forgiven. He was ready to frame 
 and work out any plan by which he could gain profit at 
 Lancaster's expense, and pleasure in avenging himself on 
 his fair companion. At length, after a minute or two, he 
 rose slowly and silently, like some wary animal, and then 
 making his way round by the other side of the deck, 
 sauntered towards the pair of friends as if he had just 
 come from below. 
 
 " I hope I do not interrupt you" he said, as raising 
 his hat, he fell into a vacant chair. 
 
 " Um — no — not at all" said Lancaster in a tone which 
 implied the contrary. 
 
 " In a few hours, Mrs. Grenville, we shall be in the 
 
174 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 old country — ah ! well there's no place like home — is 
 there ?" 
 
 u No" was the reply, " except to those who have made 
 home too hot for them." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, I did not quite catch what you 
 said, Mrs. Grenville." 
 
 " I thought you did. ' Home' to some, means a place 
 hallowed by old associations, old ties, to others it is an 
 Eden from which their vices have driven them, and they 
 revisit it to find it a hell of remorse and regret." 
 
 " Mrs. Grenville is pleased to speak in parables" said 
 Rossdale with a sneer. 
 
 " I think Mr. Rossdale you can read the riddle," she 
 replied. 
 
 " Lancaster" asked Rossdale after a somewhat awkward 
 pause, " what do you intend to do with .yourself when you 
 land ? But first, where do you land, Plymouth or South- 
 ampton ?" 
 
 " At Southampton." 
 
 '• And thence you of course go to the ' little village.' 
 If Mrs. Grenville will excuse me, there is no place like 
 London. It must be some years since you were there. 
 Can I be of use in recommending you an hotel ? I need 
 not say I shall be delighted to serve you in any way." 
 
 " Thanks" said Lancaster, " but I have my arrange- 
 ments. I go to Southampton, thence to London where 
 I have to perform a vow.''' 
 
 " A vow ?" said Mrs. Grenville in a low tone, " a vow ?" 
 
 " My dear Lancaster" asked Rossdale as he lit his 
 cigar " a vow ?" 
 
 " Yes, it is no matter my telling you, you both already 
 know I left home a poorjad." 
 
A Return Home. "175 
 
 " Yes" said Rossdale, " I recollect the yarn you told 
 me." 
 
 " Well then, the night I ran away, my head full of my 
 plan of taking to the sea, I found my way down to an inn, 
 a public house, at the waterside at Wapping, and there I 
 crept in foot-sore, hungry and weary ; the landlord and 
 the woman who passed for his wife took me in, made me 
 welcome. She begged me to go back to my mother and 
 home, and when I told her I knew neither, she took pity 
 on me, and helped me to get a cabin boy's berth. My 
 kit, slender as it was, she furnished, her husband pressed 
 some shillings in my hand, and she, as I stepped into the 
 boat, blessed me and kissed me. It was the first blessing, 
 the first caress I had ever known, and as I left them I 
 promised that whenever I came home their's should be 
 the first roof to shelter me." 
 
 " My dear John ! Mr. Lancaster I mean" said Mrs. 
 Grenville " you don't mean you intend to carry out this — 
 forgive me — quixotic idea." 
 
 " A promise is a promise." 
 
 " And where is this tavern ?" enquired Mr. Rossdale. 
 
 " The Blue Anchor inn" — but before he could finish 
 the sentence, Mrs. Grenville had warned him by a sudden 
 grasp of the arm to be silent. 
 
 "Well," said Rossdale, "after the Blue Anchor you 
 will of course, take some more agreeable quarters, where 
 I hope I may be allowed to look you up ; and you, Mrs. 
 Grenville, may I enquire where I may pay my respects 
 to you F 
 
 " Mr. Rossdale, our aoquaintance ends where it began, 
 — on board this steamer." 
 
176 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 Rossdale made a low bow and then turned away. 
 
 M Mary" said Lancaster " you are a rash woman 
 to • rile' that man." 
 
 " I don't fear him for myself, but I do hope you will 
 not continue the acquaintanceship. Tell me where will 
 you send your luggage. Can I take any for you ? I am 
 afraid the Blue Anchor is not a very safe lodging for 
 your goods and chattels." 
 
 Lancaster laughed. 
 
 " I have but a small portmanteau" said he, and I carry 
 my valuables on me — Bank of England notes and 
 sovereigns. I never trust bills or drafts. A miner's belt 
 is my Bank, little woman." 
 
 Mrs. Grenville shook her head. 
 
 One afternoon some five days afterwards, Mrs. Gren- 
 ville was seated in her room at the Hotel. A table 
 
 was covered with papers, — newspapers, telegrams and 
 letters, while a tray with refreshment on it had remained 
 untouched for some hours. The widow was walking up 
 and down the room, stopping every now and then to gaze 
 out of the window, or to listen at the door. There was an 
 anxious expression on her face, and her somewhat dis- 
 ordered hair and careless toilette shewed she was troubled. 
 Presently she threw herself into a lounging chair, and 
 resting her cheek on her hand, became for some minutes 
 absorbed in deep thought. Then, hastily rising, she 
 went to the table and eagerly read a telegram, and while 
 thus engaged, a knock sounded at the door. 
 
 " Come in" she said, throwing down the paper. 
 
 A short stout man with a red whiskerless face and 
 dressed in black, entered, making a low bow to Mrs. 
 Grenville. 
 
A Return Home. 177 
 
 " Well, what news ?" 
 
 " I regret, Ma'am " 
 
 " Then you have none'' — interrupted the widow. 
 
 The man slowly wiped his bald head with a large red 
 cotton handkerchief, for it was rather warm weather, and 
 he was heated. 
 
 " I was about to say, madam, that from information 
 received, I find that on the day in question, namely the 
 
 the " and here he fumbled in his breast for a 
 
 greasy pocket book and took out some papers which he 
 leisurely consulted, while Mrs Grenville's foot tapped the 
 floor with impatience. 
 
 " Ah !" he resumed, " on the 5th May a gentleman 
 dressed in wide-awake, blue serge suit, with dark hair 
 and eyes, moustache and beard, no luggage, left the 
 Waterloo Station at 7.25 p.m. in a cab, four-wheeler, No. 
 112, owner, Podgers of Grays Inn Lane, driver No. 211, 
 Swiffkins, of " 
 
 " Never mind these absurd details," cried Mrs. Gren- 
 ville. 
 
 " These are the links, Ma'am, important links." 
 
 "Go on, then" said Mrs. Grenville, as she resumed 
 her chair. 
 
 " Driver, No. 211 Swiffkins, of Clarendon Mews," con- 
 tinued the man, " on leaving the station, the gentleman 
 shook hands with a lady, yellow hair, round face, blue 
 eyes, no particular marks on teeth or otherwise, short and 
 — and — cannot make out the word." 
 
 " Never mind Mr. Peters, I know the lady, these details 
 are worrying." 
 
 " Ah" said Mr. Peters, " I've got it and scrump- 
 tious." z 
 
178 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Beg pardon, Ma'am, what the people that write novels 
 call exquisitely moulded ;" and Mr. Peters with his out- 
 stretched pudgy hands made some passes in the air as if 
 modelling a statue. "Swiffkins heard the lady say 
 ■ Remember then to-morrow, take care of yourself, dear 
 John.'" 
 
 "Well" said Mrs. Grenville * and after that ?" 
 
 " Swiffkins says he drove the gentleman as far as 
 Tower Hill where he got out, and paid Swiffkins a 
 sovereign as the fare, and then walked away eastward. 
 That's all the information obtained from the cabman. 
 The Blue Anchor " 
 
 " I know" interrupted the widow " no longer exists." 
 
 " Right, you are Ma'am, it was pulled down six years 
 ago." 
 
 11 You can find no trace of Mr. Lancaster after he left 
 the cab." 
 
 "None." 
 
 "The portmanteau left at the station has never been 
 claimed; it is so strange, so terrible, this uncertainty, 
 The Scotland Yard people tell me they suspect * 
 
 " Um !" said Mr. Peters " they rarely get beyond that 
 point at Scotland Yard. For worming out a matter that 
 requires patience, perseverance, tact (he called it tack) 
 give me your Private Enquiry man. For coarse work the 
 peelers may do, but for delicate investigations — Lor* 
 bless you P and Mr. Peters looked up at the ceiling with 
 a self-satisfied smile. 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Peters, you have nothing more ?" 
 
 " No ! Ma'am, except that Swiffkins says when he had 
 
A Return Home. 179 
 
 dropped the gentleman and turned to go home, he saw a 
 Hansom going before him ; he could not see the number, 
 but he suspects it had come on behind him/' 
 
 "Yes" said Mrs. Grenville "and when he set down 
 Mr. Lancaster, the Hansom turned back, is that what 
 you mean ?" 
 
 " Well, yes, it does look like that." 
 
 " No hope of finding that Hansom ?" 
 
 "There's no saying what mayn't be done with tack, 
 patience and — " 
 
 " Oh yes, I know" interrupted the widow, " see here, 
 Mr. Peters. It seems that we do not get on much further 
 in this matter; much of the information you give has 
 already been furnished by others; after to-day we will 
 make this bargain if you like, — when you satisfy me as to 
 Mr. Lancaster's fate you shall have £100 ; till then — 
 nothing." 
 
 "Very well Ma'am," said Mr. Peters after a few 
 moments consideration, with his head cocked on one side 
 " very well" and he scribbled a note in his book. Thrust- 
 ing his handkerchief into the crown of a rather seedy hat 
 he turned to go, but first bowing he observed " Thank ye 
 Ma'am — the labourer is worthy of his hire of course ; but 
 professional pride in a pursuit which demands patience 
 and perseverance makes up for anything short or skimpy 
 in the pay, and when as in this case, it is our duty to aid, 
 if I may say so, Beauty in distress- " 
 
 But Mrs. Grenville had turned away at the commence- 
 ment of Peter's oration, and seated on her chair was 
 giving way to a flood of tears, and the Private Enquiry 
 man observing this, jerked his hat on to his head, and 
 
180 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 uttering the onejword ' spoony' betook himself down the 
 stairs. 
 
 Mary Grenville's search for Lancaster went on for 
 weeks and months. She left no stone unturned in her 
 endeavour to find him, but all in vain. Of one thing she 
 had felt assured from the first, that Lancaster was kept 
 from her by some untoward circumstances. She was 
 shrewd enough to read his character aright, and knew 
 that he was a man to keep his promise, and so the hope of 
 finding him grew fainter and fainter until it faded out. 
 She came to the conclusion that he was dead, and had 
 died a violent death. She had gone in a half crazy, des- 
 perate hope of finding some clue to where the Blue 
 Anchor formerly stood, and wandered about the squalid 
 streets and dirty alleys, as ii she expected Lancaster to be 
 spell bound in some maze from which she alone could 
 guide him. Her frequent visits and enquiries wore out 
 the patience of the police-officers whose aid she sought, 
 and at length she gave up all hope of ever again seeing 
 the object of her love. 
 
 There was one suspicion Mrs. Grenville had entertained 
 from the first, — that Rossdale had some hand in the dis- 
 appearance of Lancaster, but she could discover nothing 
 to warrant her acting on this idea. She had found out 
 every movement of Rossdale 's after he left the station on 
 arriving from Southampton, with one very important 
 omission ; he could not be traced from that point to the 
 next morning, when he drove up to his old lodgings in 
 Jermyn Street. Thereafter he had been watchod by the 
 widow. He was evidently well provided with money, a 
 circumstance which to Mary Grenville was very sugges- 
 
A Return Home. 181 
 
 tive ; but the coins and notes which Lancaster had about 
 him could not be traced. His portmanteau contained no 
 papers, and if Rossdale had possessed himself of Lan- 
 caster's money, to identify it was all but impossible. 
 Mrs. Grenville, however, had attempted this, but much 
 correspondence was first necessary to ascertain where 
 Lancaster had been living in South America, for he had 
 never mentioned, or she had forgotten the place, and in 
 the meantime Rossdale had left for the continent. 
 
 And then Mary Grenville having given up all hope of 
 ever again seeing Lancaster, formed some idea of hunting 
 down the man to whom she attributed his disappearance. 
 He should not be permitted to enjoy his ill-gotten 
 wealth ; and so, she was soon on Rossdale's track. She 
 possessed Mr. Peter's three requisites, patience, perse- 
 verance and tact, and in addition, her pretty face and 
 pretty ways won for her success that, in their absence 
 might sometimes have been denied her. Every one was 
 ready when appealed to, to assist ' la belle Anglaise' and 
 so she cheated herself into the belief that her errand was 
 a righteous one, and was specially favoured by Provi- 
 dence. 
 
 Wherever Rossdale went, she followed. Were the 
 company he frequented high or low, he always found this 
 woman dogging him. They rarely, if ever, spoke, but 
 as Mary perceived on the first occasion of their meeting, 
 her presence was a threat, and he not knowing how much 
 or how little she knew, feared that the secret he carried 
 within his breast might any day be disclosed. And Ross- 
 dale was nothing more than a sneak and a coward. 
 
 So things became burdensome. At every banquet — at 
 
1 82 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 every dance — at the theatre — at M, Blanc's table at 
 Monaco, at smaller and more private houses where Ross- 
 dale courted fortune, he was sure to meet Mrs. Grenville.. 
 His wine turned sour, and the choicest plats were robbed 
 of their savour, music became discord, and luck ! — 
 why, once, when on the point of breaking the bank, and 
 when all the habitues of the place gathered round so as 
 not to miss the coup, the little widow appeared at his 
 elbow, and Rossdale's and her eyes met. He went on 
 the wrong colour, and his rouleaux disappeared, and 
 were raked in. Fresh supplies followed their fate, and 
 Rossdale was for the time beggared. Mrs. Grenville rose, 
 and was leaving the room, when Rossdale beside himself 
 with rage, strode up to her. " That is your doing, 
 Madam," he said, looking at her with a most unamiable 
 expression. 
 
 " I fancy it was an aroused conscience that spoilt your 
 game, Mr. Rossdale," and the widow returned his stare 
 with v a provoking smile. 
 
 " What do you mean ?" said Rossdale, " and why do 
 you follow me as you have done for weeks past ?" 
 
 " Why do you ask ? You know my reason." 
 
 " I do not. Why don't you — have you deserted that 
 fellow " 
 
 But before he could utter the name, his lips trembled. 
 
 " Ah !" said Mrs. Grenville, " see ! you cannot, you 
 dare not pronounce his name. You know when and how 
 he ceased to live." 
 
 " You are mad ! do you mean to say I — I murdered 
 him?" 
 
 " Robert Rossdale," said Mrs. Grenville very slowly 
 
A Return Home. 183 
 
 and in solemn accents, " I know you did!' There was 
 a pause for a second, and Rossdale looked as if about to 
 fall, then recovering himself, he came one step closer to 
 the widow, and raising his hand struck her. 
 
 "Liar!" he shouted, "Liar and " 
 
 The word, whatever it was, was drowned in the noise 
 that arose from the by-standers at this cowardly act. Ross- 
 dale was held at once by half a dozen men ; but there 
 was no fear of his repeating the outrage. A few women 
 gathered round Mary Grenville and proffered their aid. 
 
 The attendants had hurried to the spot and were in- 
 ducing the crowd to leave the saloon when a Frenchman 
 (he was a captain in the . . Lancers and a chivalric 
 squire of dames), came up and respectfully enquired of 
 Mary Grenville if she had any friend present. 
 
 " No, Monsieur, else I should have been spared this 
 violence." 
 
 " This gentleman is no relation W 
 
 " None, thank God l" 
 
 Then the officer went up to Rossdale, a few words 
 passed, cards were exchanged, and the crowd dis- 
 persed. 
 
 The next morning there was an * event,' — a scandal ; 
 the Honourable Robert Rossdale had been run through 
 the heart, and his friends had been wired for, and there 
 was of course a hubbub, but not for long. These occur- 
 ences are soon forgotten, and duels are, or were, not 
 uncommon at such places in those days. 
 
 Mrs. Grenville was soon after enabled to trace some of 
 the notes which Lancaster had obtained in South America, 
 to Rossdale, and so she felt confirmed in her suspicions. 
 
184 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 The last time I saw her she was a member of some 
 charitable guild, and was working in London among the 
 poor, by whom she was idolised. 
 
 A WIDE A WAKE PATRIOT. 
 
 TINKER on his legs in the Legislative Hall, was 
 a thing to see and hear. He ruthlessly cut 
 down votes — denounced expenditure necessary 
 or otherwise — had a power of talk beyond any other two 
 members, and more suo was an eloquent statesman. 
 Tinker's sharp eyes detected any error in the estimates 
 (we were careful about our estimates in St. Molasses 
 where a deficit of fifty pounds created a financial crisis). 
 He opposed all additional taxation, and thought that one 
 man (say Thomas Tinker) could manage St. Molasses on 
 half the Governor's salary, and find an official staff out 
 of it. 
 
 But there came a time when it was deemed expedient 
 that St. Molasses should have a militia of about 300 
 strong. The youth of St. Molasses was in ecstacies, and 
 at least fifty made sure of a commission each ; but Tinker 
 and his party were of course opposed to it. The House 
 of Assembly was dissolved, and by dint of immense 
 efforts and great tact, a new one elected, of which the 
 majority were u in favour of the scheme which in due 
 course came on for discussion. Tinker was angry and 
 furious, as the clerk read out the clauses of the bill, he 
 moved its being read that day six months,— he proposed 
 that such and such clauses be cut out, be declared the 
 
A Wide Awake Patriot. 185 
 
 whole thing to be a sham. Then he called the sup- 
 porters of the measure, Esaus, who had sold their birth 
 rights for a mess of * porrridge" (this the Tinkerites con- 
 sidered a flight of withering sarcasm since the Scottish 
 element was strong in the house) ; and he also ridiculed 
 his opponents, delicately touching on the personal defefts 
 of some who, like old Groggins, was lame, and Pyebald 
 who could not see without glasses ; and triumphantly 
 asking what sort of Milishy officers they'd make. 
 
 But the bill went on. A rather imposing list of officers, 
 Colonel, Majors, Captains, Ensigns was passed, though 
 by the lowest of majorities and then came other pro- 
 visions. 
 
 One clause was to the effeft that in case of invasion or 
 domestic tumult, an alarm should be given by hoisting 
 the Union Jack half-mast at the Garrison (empty barracks 
 in those days), and firing three cannons, whereupon all 
 members of the militia were to repair to the market place, 
 there to form a " general nucleus." 
 
 " There ! there !" yelled Tinker as he sprung to his 
 feet, " I told you so ; this bill, this iniquitous measure is 
 but a series of snares and pitfalls ; we have had, I should 
 have thought, officers enough, and now comes in another 
 by a side wind — a by-blow — who's General Newclus ? I 
 say, who is he ? Is he some pampered — but there I've 
 done, I cannot remain to see the people's rights " 
 
 And Thomas Tinker got up and left the House, 
 waving an umbrella to Heaven as if appealing against 
 the misdeeds of the Legislature of St. Molasses. 
 
 2 A 
 
1 86 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 AN ELECTION. 
 
 I RECEIVED on one occasion a very pressing re- 
 quest from our Governor (I don't mean my father) 
 to stand as a candidate for a parish in St. Monte- 
 jus at the ele&ion of a new House of Assembly. His 
 Excellency had grown weary of attempting to get measures 
 passed when there was a big majority against government. 
 Some half-a-dozen planters sat in a row, headed by an 
 old merchant named Lovat, to whom they were bound by 
 that closest of all ties, hopeless indebtedness, and voted 
 as he bade ; another party so far independent that the 
 greater number of them usually ratted at the last moment, 
 together with three or four officials who voted for " bread 
 and cheese," made up the House, and after the reje&ion 
 of one pet measure, out came a proclamation and the 
 Provost Marshal's drummer. 
 
 I felt more than half inclined to ask the Governor to 
 excuse me. I lived some miles from the town, which 
 could only be reached by a long pull through sometimes 
 very rough water, or by a wearing ride over not the best 
 roads in the world, and I did not care to be absent from 
 home for one or two days in each alternate week. Besides 
 the worry and fatigue, these journeys would involve con- 
 siderable expense, and above all, I never was an orator. 
 On the other hand, it seemed to be one's duty to assist 
 the Governor in his difficulty, and there was a sort of 
 hope that such service would be remembered when a 
 vacancy occurred in some post better paid than mine 
 was ; and so after some argument with my Chancellor of 
 the Exchequer who pointed out that while the d&agre- 
 
An Election. 187 
 
 mens were certain, the advantages were problematical, I 
 said, yes, to His Excellency's proposal. 
 
 My colleague was a Mr. Moss, who, like myself, held 
 a small government appointment, and he and I agreed 
 that it would save us a lot of trouble, and probably 
 secure our success, if we employed some one to 
 canvass and conduct our tactics. We therefore availed 
 ourselves of a most energetic carpenter, who for some 
 reason which I forget, was a very pronounced " govern- 
 ment man." Mr. Shavins not only promised his best 
 efforts, but prophesied our success. 
 
 The constituency by the exertions of both sides had 
 been swelled to 20. I may explain that anyone could 
 register as a voter, only, wljen he came to the poll, if the 
 enquiry were demanded by a candidate, the voter's quali- 
 fications were examined into, and admitted or rejefted ; 
 but, in general, eleftions were uncontested, and the voter 
 qualified or not, was allowed to poll. 
 
 At our ele&ion, however, things were different. We 
 were opposed by two planters, — one a manager and the 
 other a proprietor, who counted on their influence with 
 their friends of the landed interest, and on the small 
 villagers whom they employed. Moss and I, from the 
 first, had little hope of winning the day; we could 
 reckon on one employe 'of the government, a couple of 
 parsons, perhaps the doctor, and a friend who was a 
 member of Council ; but when we looked down the list 
 we shook our heads. Mr. Shavins, however, rubbed his 
 hands, while a sly smile stole over his sharp brown 
 features. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said he, " trust me, I know the people. 
 
1 88 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 I will not mislead you. When Shavins undertakes a 
 thing, he is bound to win. I have my fingers on the 
 pulse of the ele&ors, and every man's heart beats true for 
 Beke and Moss — for Moss and Beke." 
 
 '.' Very well," we said. 
 
 " Now, gentlemen," he added* " luncheon will be re- 
 quired ; — it will serve to celebrate your triumph, or if not, 
 it will soothe your defeat ; not that you will be defeated. 
 You will entrust that to Shavins ?" 
 
 Our friend always spoke of himself in the third -person, 
 and we assented. 
 
 " Shall we say a couple of fowls, tongue, round of 
 beef, salad, &c, &c. ? M\ ! exaftly, and liquors — as- 
 sorted I presume ? some of a superior quaiity for your 
 personal friends, and some for those who will carry you 
 in triumph to the head of the poll. Gentlemen, your con- 
 fidence shall not be abused." 
 
 " Well," said Moss " there mustn't be any bribery you 
 know, or you'll spoil all." 
 
 " Bribery !" said Mr. Shavins, " I would not descend 
 to it. No, sir ! Purity of election is my motto, as it is 
 yours." 
 
 Shavins worked well for us, he interviewed every, 
 ele&or, — strove to make them feel that the safety of the 
 colony depended on Moss and myself being returned. He 
 seletted the materials for the lunch with taste and skill, 
 and sele&ed the liquors with the judgment of a connois- 
 seur ; and in short worked as if he had worked at nothing 
 else all his life. At length the important day arrived and 
 I set off in my boat, — a dug-out tree ' raised upon' with 
 white pine boards and pulled by three sturdy fellows — 
 
An Election. 189 
 
 for the little town or village, where the election was to 
 be held. 
 
 Ah me ! How the remembrance of that day comes 
 back to me across many long years : I recoiled the pull 
 over the still blue water, below the surface of which we 
 could see the corals and waving gorgonias, with brilliant- 
 hued fish flashing through and between them, the listless 
 water rising an inch or two, and as it were lazily kissing 
 the weed-clad feet of the many-coloured cliff that rose 
 above, the little bays that we passed with strips of silver 
 sand and lines of cocoa nut trees ; the fields of canes, 
 the miniature buildings or works as we call them there, 
 the well known houses of Jriends, pi&uresquely perched 
 on the side of hills that closed in the lovely valleys ; all 
 these come before me, and I seem to see them once again, 
 though with eyes that grow dim at the recolle&ion of by- 
 gone days, and of dear friends that are now no more. 
 
 The little town which was once the capital of St. Monte- 
 jus shews like too many other settlements, only traces of 
 its former position. Onaballie, for the place retained its 
 ancient Carib name, consisted of a few rows of more or 
 less dilapidated houses, parallel to the sea. There was 
 the usual beach of sand with scattered cocoa palms and 
 two or three splendid tamarind trees and an almond or 
 two ; a boat house here and there and a few rude sheds 
 where either cassava was baked, or arrowroot was ground. 
 A mass of masonry shewed the site of barracks occupied 
 some fifty years before, by a company or two of King's 
 troops, while a few rusty old cannon half buried in the 
 sand, were all that remained of the battery's armament ; 
 another heap of brick work was the remains of a re&ory 
 
190 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 destroyed in the hurricane of 1780 and here and there 
 old stone walls marked where had been the houses of the 
 former wealthy colonists. 
 
 There was a long white building enclosed by 
 tolerably lofty walls, the lower story of which consisted in 
 part, of cells some five feet square and a couple of feet 
 higher, in which slaves used to be placed when taken 
 down from the tread wheel, which in former days occu- 
 pied a large arched recess ; and above these was the court 
 room where the ele&ion was to be held. 
 
 As my boat touched the beach, I was welcomed by 
 Moss and the indefatigable Shavins, and we went up to 
 the court room. There, at the table where the magistrate 
 usually sate, was the Marshal, and beside him our two 
 opponents and two or three others. We were all very good 
 friends and our greetings were hearty. Of course there 
 was some chaff at the hopelessness of our case, and I 
 found that while we had 3 votes, Duncan and Alexander 
 had 6. We sate and chatted until our friend the Execu- 
 tive Councillor rode into the yard on a long-legged mare, 
 and then sauntered into the room. There was again a 
 good deal of hand shaking before he voted for us. 
 
 " Wonderful" said Duncan, "how havin' Honorable 
 tacked on your name blinds a man to a sense of duty." 
 
 " Ye forget Mr. Hope" added Alexander, " that we 
 represent the agricultural pairty and oor interests are the 
 same, and we looked on ye as a man who'd rescue the 
 puir planters from the tyranny of Government," 
 
 Hope screwed his face into a queer smile as he replied, 
 11 Humph !" and sate down. With Hope had come three 
 of his tradesmen, small house-holders ; they were got up 
 
An Election. 191 
 
 in their Sunday best and came forward bobbing and 
 bowing, and ushered by Shavins. 
 
 " Your name ?" said the Marshal to the first. 
 
 " Peter Othello." 
 
 u Now, Mr. Othello" said Duncan, putting his elbows 
 on the table and resting his chin on his hands " I'd like 
 to see your qualifications." 
 
 Othello dived down into his coat pocket and produced 
 a folded paper, which the Marshal took from him. 
 
 " Not recorded in the Registrar's office," said the official, 
 " and therefore not qualified." 
 
 Othello received back his deed with a " thank'ye me 
 massa" and went away, while we looked glum at the loss 
 of a vote. However, the other men had their papers in 
 order, and having voted, were led away by Shavins to an 
 adjoining room whence a sound as of drawing corks and 
 clinking of glasses proceeded. 
 
 The business went on in an intermittent dreary way, 
 and we all began to yawn, when a happy thought struck 
 the Marshal who proposed to mix us some " topets." A 
 simpler drink than the topet which had then lately been 
 introduced from a neighbouring island, does not exist. It 
 is merely a spoonful of syrup, or a couple of lumps of 
 sugar dissolved in no more than sufficient water, and then 
 the wine glass filled up with spirits. It is therefore easily 
 made, and as easily swallowed. Three or four taken at 
 short intervals promote conversation ; but it is as well to 
 stop here. 
 
 I don't think either Moss or I appreciated such short 
 and strong libations, but our hardier friends did, and it 
 was perhaps lucky that the arrival of the two voters 
 recalled the Marshal to his post. 
 
192 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 The two new comers voted for our opponents and so 
 they were two ahead, much to their delight. Moss and 
 I had got sick of the whole affair and we went down into 
 the Court yard to stretch our legs. In a few minutes 
 however, we were recalled by the sound of angry alterca- 
 tion upstairs, and we found our friend Shavins and Mr. 
 Alexander slanging each other in fine style. Mr. 
 Alexander had apparently so far got the worse of it that 
 he was driven to make an uncomplimentary allusion to 
 Shavin's complexion, and to express a doubt as to the 
 respectability of his mother, when he was silenced by his 
 antagonist reminding him that people could recolleft 
 when he (Alexander) was " imported." It was true that 
 he had come out as an apprenticed tradesman to an 
 estate, but had raised himself to a position of worth. 
 
 We all interfered and stopped the quarrel, and I, 
 taking Shavins aside, expressed doubts as to our suc- 
 cess. 
 
 " Sir," said he, " never despair ; in twenty minutes the 
 poll will be closed, but in that twenty minutes Shavins 
 brings up his reserve ; let me suggest your asking Mr. 
 Alexander and Mr. Duncan to join you and Mr. Moss in 
 a friendly glass. It will remove any little feeling after 
 the late squabble." 
 
 I did so, and we were about to be followed by the re- 
 turning Officer when Shavins stopped him, and the others 
 retired to the refreshment room. We were there some 
 ten minutes, Moss and I taking in good part the way 
 in which Duncan and Alexander who made sure of their 
 victory, chaffed us; and we two felt I confess, rather 
 
An Election. 193 
 
 pleased at the prosped of defeat relieving us from an 
 irksome duty. 
 
 Then we all returned to the Court room, and the 
 Marshal proceeded to declare the result of the poll. To 
 the amazement of Moss and myself and the disgust of 
 Duncan and Alexander, we found ourselves returned by 
 a majority of four. I looked at Shavins who placed one 
 finger at the side of his nose and winked. 
 
 " But" said Alexander " these last six men, when did 
 they vote ?" 
 
 " They came in" said the Marshal, " when you were 
 having a drink ot reconciliation." 
 
 Of course there was no help for it, and our opponents 
 accepted the position not ungracefullyi Luncheon fol- 
 lowed and we parted very good friends. Moss was going 
 to town, and I got into my boat. Before I did so, how- 
 ever, I thanked Shavins for his assistance. 
 
 " Why did you bring in those voters at that time and in 
 that mysterious fashion ?" I asked. 
 
 " Sir ! Shavins knows a thing or two. Those devoted 
 adherents of yours were technically unqualified, they had 
 their deeds, but had not recorded them. Hence Shavins 
 took the opportunity of the absence of the opposing can- 
 didates to lead them to the poll." 
 
 "But Shavins, you have made me a party to rather 
 a trick." 
 
 " You were innocent, Sir." 
 
 " Yes ; but I thought purity of election was your 
 motto." 
 
 " Dear Sir, it is ; but all things are fair in war." 
 And so I became a Member of Assembly. 
 
 2 B 
 
194 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 AN OFFICIAL INVESTIGATION. 
 
 A T AHE Colonial Secretary of St. Sangaree was a 
 i man of good family, who had won distin&ion 
 
 at his University, and for a long while filled 
 his official and social position satisfactorily, but for some 
 time he had given way to bad habits and become what 
 ♦teetotallers called a " votary of Bacchus/' Much incon- 
 venience and much scandal was the result, but still there 
 was nothing so flagrant as to warrant a dired charge 
 being made with a view to Halson's dismissal until an 
 official — I forget what he was — died, as now and then 
 happened in St. Sangaree, and there was a funeral at- 
 tended with some pomp. 
 
 In these small islands there is not often much to break 
 the monotony of existence, and in St. Sangaree, beyond 
 the arrival and departure of the Steamer, people had little 
 to interest them ; and so it happened that grief at the loss 
 of a friend was frequently tempered by satisfa&ion that 
 it wasn't 'our turn/ and by the excitement of a well- 
 ordered funeral. 
 
 There was on the occasion referred to, a big "turn 
 out," and heading the body of officials who followed the 
 mourners of the family, was the Colonial Secretary, then 
 a&ing as Lieutenant-Governor, who, to shew his official 
 sympathy, had donned the blue and scarlet Windsor 
 uniform which was then worn by colonial officers of a 
 certain rank. 
 
 Mr. Halson having taken the place assigned to him the 
 cortege set out, while from the lines of people between 
 which the procession passed, there issued mingled regrets 
 
An Official Investigation. 
 
 195 
 
 for the loss of the deceased, sympathy for his family, and 
 admiration of the Colonial Secretary and his uniform, the 
 gold of which glittered and sparkled in the sun. And so 
 the long line of sable clad people — black being the 
 prevailing hue — accentuated by the bright but erratic 
 spot of colour contributed by the Secretary's uniform, 
 moved slowly and solemnly towards the cemetery over 
 the cobble stone pavement, which even to people accus- 
 tomed to it was anything but comfortable walking 
 ground. 
 
 Some said it was grief — some said otherwise — but at 
 one point the Colonial Secretary, who had evidently 
 become unequal to further progress of a dignified 
 chara&er, on the advice of some of his friends, " fell 
 out" but, grasping the arm of one of them, stood gazing 
 with the smile that is sometimes begot of nervousness, 
 until the last mourner had passed. In due time the pro- 
 cession, minus the sad burden which had preceded it, 
 retraced its steps, — for in St. Sangaree it was the custom 
 to return to the house which had called the departed one 
 ' master/ in order to take refreshment that should revive 
 the saddened hearts of the survivors ; and as the 
 mourners wound down the hill and through the street, 
 there stood the unhappy Secretary, still in his uniform, 
 but mounted on a flight of steps before a house not his 
 own, laughing, waving his cocked hat, and saluting the 
 procession with his dress sword. The St. Sangareans were 
 scandalized. The Secretary evidently was drunk. He 
 was taken home, and in some quarters the incident — 
 painful, disgraceful as it was — was hailed as the means 
 of removing a scandal from the service. The Governor, 
 
196 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 who was in a neighbouring island, came to St. Sangaree 
 with some officials to try the offender, and often as 
 Halson had managed to escape before, every one looked 
 upon him now as a doomed man, and the store-keepers 
 began to make out their accounts, and junior officials to 
 speculate as to the promotion the expe&ed vacancy would 
 bring to them. 
 
 But the Colonial Secretary was married. Mrs. Halson 
 — Hetty Halson as her friends called her — who was 
 clever as she was handsome, had won the hearts of all 
 the men in St. Sangaree. The Garrison had gone wild 
 about her, and from Limber, the red-faced Major in 
 command, to young Spoone, the junior Ensign, (there 
 were Ensigns in those days) all the officers were " hard 
 hit." Mattins, our curate, used to stop short and lose his 
 place when reading the lessons, if he chanced to catch 
 Mrs. Halson's eye. There were reports that Halson when 
 in his cups, ill-treated her, and there were times when a 
 whispered story, half sighs, half sobs, with a few pearly 
 tears, led the favoured confidant to call the Secretary con- 
 foundedly hard names, and the ill-used wife very tender 
 ones. 
 
 Hetty Halson knew however, that loss of place meant 
 to her the loss of an otherwise comfortable home, and to 
 her husband loss of pay and position ; and so he must be 
 saved anyhow. 
 
 The Governor had begun life in a humble way and 
 eventually became a great politician in another colony, 
 where his extreme views on certain public questions 
 had brought down on him the thunder of the Govern- 
 ment, and his liberty, if not more, had been in peril ; but 
 
An Official Investigation. 197 
 
 he saw the error of his ways — ratted — and was rewarded, 
 as was due to one that repenteth, by being made governor 
 over St. Sangaree and some other islands, while a good 
 many of the faithful were left out in the cold. 
 
 Governor on his arrival ought to have been 
 
 lodged at Government House, and Halson had made 
 arrangements to turn out, but the big man, who was 
 determined to appear polite and considerate, would not 
 hear of it, as it would inconvenience Mrs. Halson ; and 
 he and his suite were glad to accept the invitation of 
 Major Limber and the Officers of the Garrison for the 
 few days His Excellency would remain in St. Sangaree. 
 
 Halson had been furnished with a copy of the charge 
 and was very miserable. He knew he was guilty, and 
 that there was a score of witnesses against him. It was 
 no use, after former escapes and unofficial warnings, to 
 appeal to the Governor's mercy ; and the Governor had 
 a most deserving and efficient, if altogether inexperienced 
 nephew whom Halson's billet would exactly suit. So 
 there was nothing but disgrace and ruin before the poor 
 Secretary, as he paced up and down his verandah with 
 his hands in his pockets, and chewing an unlit cigar. It 
 was a bad look-out for him, and not being an entirely 
 selfish man, his thoughts turned to his wife and the 
 misery his miscondud would bring on her. He was very 
 fond of her in spite of her flirtations which made him 
 uneasy and jealous, and something like tears stole into 
 his eyes as he pictured her in the future, reduced to 
 poverty. So impressed was he with this apprehension on 
 his wife's account that her appearance at the end of the 
 avenue, riding between Major Limber and Surgeon- 
 
198 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 Major Steele, both of whom were laughing heartily, did 
 not disturb him. He smiled sadly and shook his head, 
 and continued his walk to and fro. 
 
 " You won't come in, Major ?" he heard his wife say, 
 " Harry will be glad to see you." 
 
 u No ! no ! my dear lady, excuse me, I should never 
 keep my countenance and Halson wouldn't understand. 
 No thank you, I'll wait for Steele at the end of the 
 avenue. Bye-bye ! au revoir f" and the Major turned 
 back. 
 
 Dr. Steele, however, helped Mrs. Halson from her 
 horse and accompanied her indoors, where they met the 
 Secretary. 
 
 " Halson," said the doctor, " I want to see you for a 
 minute in private." 
 " What for, Steele ?" 
 " Never mind !" 
 
 " Yes, Harry, do go, and ask no questions,' , and Mrs. 
 Halson, who was a wee woman, stood on tiptoe and 
 patted his cheek. 
 
 Halson and the doctor retired, and after a while, rejoined 
 Mrs. Halson. 
 
 " My dear," said the Secretary, " it won't do, it is too 
 absurd." 
 
 " It's our only chance, Harry." 
 
 " Well, I'll do you as you advise. There's paper and 
 pen, Steele, make out the certificate, — but really — " 
 
 Steele having written something on a sheet of official 
 paper, and promised to attend the enquiry, which was to 
 be at n o'clock the next day, rode away. 
 
 Well, that night the garrison mess was en fete. The 
 
An Official Investigation. 199 
 
 Governor and his party numbered half a dozen and there 
 were about as many civilians, so that the guests were 
 about as numerous as their Officer hosts. The dinner 
 was first-rate, and the wine went round rapidly, and after- 
 wards there was a little speech from Limber and the 
 Governor responded, and the party adjourned. Cards 
 and brandies and soda were introduced, and the Governor 
 was rejoiced at spending what he called so friendly an 
 evening. Limber was most attentive and refilled His 
 Excellency's tumbler over and over again. The fun 
 grew fast and furious, and one can hardly believe the 
 stories that were afterwards told of the high jinks that went 
 on, and the a&ive part taken in them by the Governor, 
 who at an early period of the morning was conducted 
 (carried, some say) to his bed. 
 
 Early next morning Mrs. Halson was at Fort St. 
 Joseph, requesting an interview with the Governor, who 
 at first demurred, but eventually gave in, and the two met 
 in the anteroom. The exaft nature of the conference 
 will never be known but when they parted there was a 
 bothered look on the Governor's face, and a slight smile 
 on that of the lady, as she was lifted into her saddle by 
 Major Limber, to whom she nodded as she rode away. 
 
 The Council met ; Halson appeared much concerned, 
 but was relieved when His Excellency who looked 
 as if the proverbially bad climate of St. Sangaree had 
 already begun to tell on him, said he was glad to say 
 there would be no enquiry. Mr. Halson's conduct was to 
 be attributed to over-pent feelings of regret at the loss of 
 a brother official to whom he was much attached, and as 
 to the unsteadiness of gait, which had been chiefly relied 
 
2oo West Indian Yarns. 
 
 on as evidence of his being under the influence of liquor, 
 Surgeon-Major Steele, a medical officer of much ex- 
 perience, had certified that Mr. Halson was a martyr to 
 those painful excrescences, corns ; and to those, and the 
 uneven pavement were the symptoms to be referred. 
 And so the Council broke up. The Governor remained 
 quietly at Government House till the steamer took him 
 away, and Halson retained his post, at all events, for 
 some years. 
 
 Soon afterwards, the Governor died, and then it was 
 openly stated that His Excellency had been led into 
 dissipation as part of a scheme conco&ed by Mrs. 
 Halson, who, the next morning had coolly told the 
 Governor that she knew of his intoxication and undig- 
 nified behaviour, and that if he pressed the charge against 
 her husband she would expose him. 
 
 Such at all events, was the story told me ; but it hap- 
 pened long, long ago, and it was not always easy to give 
 full credence to all the yarns one hears of the people of 
 that by-gone period of the island's history. 
 
 A DOCTOR'S YARN. 
 
 « /"^\AP'EN say he ready sah !" 
 
 V^ ^ I was leaning out of the verandah of the * hotel' 
 in St. Maria, and although I had been waiting 
 an hour or so for this summons, I was loth to stir. It 
 was a lovely night. The moon was full, and lit up the 
 scenery, of the bay. Through and under the latge almond 
 trees that lined the shore I could see the gently rippling 
 
A Doctor's Yarn. 201 
 
 waves, flashing and breaking into a thousand fragments of 
 silvery sheen as they ran up the pebbly beach. The 
 tall, scarped hills stood out sharply against the sky, and 
 in the mountain behind the little town the ravines seemed 
 all the darker and more gloomy because its crown and 
 ridges were bathed in light. Every thing seaward was as 
 visible as in the daytime : the very ropes in the couple of 
 barques that lay at anchor could be discerned, and I 
 could see the cap'en on board the Gem, a little sloop I 
 had chartered, making ready for a start. 
 
 So I had to be off ; and giving Peter a bundle of wraps 
 to carry, I followed that imperfeftly-clad imp to the beach 
 where a small dingy was waiting, in charge of the man, 
 who with Peter, composed the crew of the Gem. With a 
 struggle, a stumble and a bump, I deposited myself and 
 my belongings in the bow, and with the help of some 
 good-natured idlers we shoved off. A few strokes of 
 Peter's primitive paddles brought us alongside the sloop, 
 then, aided, by a grasp of the cap'en's hand, I scrambled 
 on board. The Gem was not indeed a roomy craft, for a 
 hop and skip, without the jump, would have cleared her, 
 so narrow was she ; and what with a boat on deck, 
 and some barrels and other lumber, she looked not a little 
 crowded. However, the crew and passenger managed to 
 haul the dingy on board, and when the foresail was set 
 and the anchor raised, the Gem turned her head slowly 
 away from the shore. A few pulls, and up went the 
 mainsail, and then we heard the welcome ripple and 
 swish that told us we were under weigh. The water in 
 St. Maria— that is, in the bay which we were leaving— is 
 bold enough, and it was only necessary to keep a look 
 
 2 c 
 
202 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 out for a fishing-boat or for a drogher that might pop 
 round the corner — as they usually did — at a swinging 
 pace. The crew, who was called Jimbo, steered with 
 the tiller under his arm while he lighted his pipe. Peter, 
 who was only rated as boy, employed himself in 
 raising a fire out of some of the embers in a galley formed 
 out of an iron coal-pot fixed in a cut down barrel filled with 
 sand ; and the cap'en was busy in putting things tidy : so 
 that as the crew appeared confident of his safety, so 
 was I. 
 
 Cap'en Barrington was a tall, burly negro of about 
 forty, with a good-natured, frank countenance. He was 
 innocent of boots, and his hat, an old felt wide-awake, 
 would have been useless for baling purposes. His nether 
 garments were partly of blue-serge, much faded and 
 stained, with a patch of different colours on the knees 
 and seat, but his ' bamboo' shirt was apparently a more 
 recent purchase. 
 
 "A fine night Do&ah," said Captain Barrington 
 squatting near me — 
 
 I, assented. 
 
 " I beg you, sah, for a leetle bit baccey. I forget for 
 buy some a' store." 
 
 I had experienced instances of the forgetfulness of 
 other cap'ens in this matter before, and had provided 
 acccordingly. 
 
 "Tank you, doaah." 
 
 Perhaps I had better here explain that I was a district 
 doftor in St. Maria ; that my work lay in a mountainous 
 part which I had to traverse two or three days a week on 
 a wretched, weedy pony, that barely managed to carry 
 
A Doctor's Yarn. 203 
 
 one up and down the roads and stony paths, which, after 
 rain, — and it was almost always raining in St. Maria — 
 were as slippery as frozen ointment ; that my salary was 
 small and my family large, so that I jumped at an offer 
 to run down to the adjacent island of Petit Sangaree and 
 vaccinate every man, woman, and child at so much per 
 head or rather arm. And so, as I have said, I chartered 
 the sloop Gem. 
 
 The cap'en lit his pipe and then began to question 
 Peter as to certain commissions with which they had been 
 entrusted : — 
 
 " Peter, you 'member dem boots for Miss Flora ? and 
 she hat and de oder ting from Miss Phoebe, she dress- 
 maker ?" 
 
 " Yes, cap'en." 
 
 " You know she well partickler and she have for marry 
 to-morrow, please God. She is a nice nyoung lady that." 
 
 " Cap'en ! I hope you put de cake from Mammy 
 Betsy where he no get bruck. He fuss'rate, man — all 
 ober sugar and sweeties !" 
 
 " All right, Peter, me put 'em in for me bunk." 
 
 " Aow ! Me Gad, cap'en, no forget to take 'em out if 
 you does turn in, else he got mashiate in trut' !" 
 
 And so they went on discussing the approaching 
 wedding, and retailing the little scraps of gossip, chroni- 
 cles of very small beer, which each v had picked up on 
 shore. As for me, I simply lay down on my rugs gazing 
 up into the bright sky, or watching the phosphorescent 
 waves as they danced by, and thinking of things past and 
 things to come,— thoughts that come chiefly, if not only, 
 at such times. 
 
204 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 The Gem tripped along, and we were out of the bay, 
 and Jimbo steered her for a dark mass, that rising out 
 of the sea some twenty miles off, was Petit Sangaree, 
 and in due time we were under the tall cliffs that shut in 
 the bay for which we were bound, and then the breeze 
 died away. 
 
 The Gem was bearable when making way, for she only 
 pitched and shook herself if a big wave met her ; but 
 drifting she was a very uncomfortable craft. She rolled 
 with a short jerk and bobbed about, while her boom 
 had a most unmusical squeak and grunt as it swung against 
 the mast. And then the exigencies of trade having caused 
 the Gem to be a carrier of all sorts of unsavoury goods, 
 such as sugar and molasses, saltfish, guano, &c, &c, 
 these left behind them odours which were most obtrusive 
 when the Gem was becalmed and her rolling set her 
 bilge-water in agitation. 
 
 However, there was nothing for it but to wait ; and so 
 I lay, watching the mast head as it wobbled and jerked 
 as if trying to poke out one of the many stars above us. 
 
 Petit Sangaree from the sea, looks, barren. Its hills are 
 covered with low shrub, and though in some places the 
 white cedar, so useful to boatbuilders, raises its head 
 above the surrounding trees, they generally present a 
 somewhat depressing appearance, which moonlight in- 
 tensifies. And I got impatient at the slow progress which 
 in spite of the cap'en's long sweep we made towards the 
 village which lies at the bottom of the bay. 
 
 There was something weird and uncanny in thus steal- 
 ing into the moonlit bay. All the little world had 
 apparently gone to rest. Not a light was to be seen ; not 
 

 A Doctor's Yarn. 205 
 
 a sound heard save the lapping of the waves against the 
 rocks, or the moaning of the palm trees as their heavy- 
 foliage was swept by the night wind. The white-washed 
 buildings stood out clear and sharp, while across the 
 water were broad bands of silvery light, broken by boats 
 at anchor, or by the buoys marking where nets were 
 set. 
 
 As we stole nearer and nearer the landing-place, I saw 
 standing out from a background of dark mango trees 
 some yards from the beach, a white stone mansion, or 
 rather its remains, that I felt must have a ghost, or at 
 least be the scene of a jumbie story. 
 
 " Dat ! my massa ? Dat McFarlane house. Black 
 McFarlane — no but wha' he been buckra but he heart 
 been black. Me fader ! dat man ! Wha' God A'mighty 
 
 do for make sich a man me no know. Wha' God been 
 
 # 
 
 a do wid um now he dead me no sabe. Brimstone and 
 fiah too good for like of him. Me massa, you believe 
 dat man tie poor negur to de tail ob he mill all troo de 
 day, and let water go drop from one calabash pon he 
 head, drip, drop, drip, drop, teel he dead. Den he no 
 go flog one woman, and becasin' she big and no hable 
 for lie comfortable on she tummick he make 'em dig 
 hole in de sand fo' receive she. &ow ! dey tell too many 
 ting pon McFarlane. But good so ; de debbil carry him 
 away. Yes, massa, dat fo' true. Le'me tell you. 
 McFarlane had one big, big black horse dat he ride 
 all ober de island — day, night, moonshine, dark, all de 
 same to McFarlane — and de horse, me 'member dey call 
 de horse Miss Tofeles tho' he no been mare. Well! 
 do&ah ! One night big storm come; thunder and rain 
 
206 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 and lightning too, and in de marning dey give alarm. 
 When de sarvin' gal go take McFarlane coffee he no in 
 he chamber, he no up'tairs— he no down'tairs — and de 
 front-door open. Den dey look in de horse-'table, but de 
 horse no dey. So dey get frikened ; dey send all round 
 and round. De parson a come, de magistrate, all de 
 buckra and 'sponsible people a come, and den dey find 
 de track of de horse fresh in de dirtie all de way from de 
 'table, but dey 'top, dey no come so near dat de horse 
 been hable for jump in de sea, and so ebberyone say it a 
 bery 'strange ting. People nebber see McFarlane again 
 nor he horse, and den de talk come dat de debbil go 
 take 'um ; and massa, believe me ! I tink dat 'tory 
 true." 
 
 As the cap'en told this legend we were close in shore — 
 so close I expe&ed to feel the sloop run aground, but she 
 went ahead slowly till her cutwater touched the white 
 sand-beach and then the boy leapt overboard with a line, 
 and in a few seconds we were made fast to a stout almond 
 tree. Presently, there were opened one or two doors in 
 the village, and quaint figures in white peeped out. Then 
 light appeared, and by degrees the inhabitants came 
 down to the beach and spoke as follows : — 
 
 " Eh ! Eh ! de Gem fo' true." 
 
 " Cap'en Barrington ?" 
 
 " Yes ma'am ?" 
 
 " You come safe now ! Tank the Lord ! — you bring de 
 parcel and ting fo' me ?" 
 
 " Yes Miss Flora, me beg excuse, but me no catch 
 you v'ice. Ebbrything come !" 
 
 f Good so !" 
 
A Doctor's Yarn. 207 
 
 Whereupon they all clustered together till the cap'en 
 got ashore, and Peter followed with all Miss Flora's 
 wedding gear ; and up went the jabbering group till they 
 reached Miss Flora's cottage, at the door of which they 
 all sate down and cross-examined Peter about the valuables 
 he bought for the expectant bride, and a score of other 
 commissions. I, who landed and stood up near by, won- 
 dered how the lad remembered all he had had to do, and 
 had managed as he seemed to have done, to content his 
 exa&ing employers. 
 
 After a while, I strolled towards the ruined house of Black 
 McFarlane that stood a few hundred yards off. It had 
 been built of stone, and in the end of the two large rooms 
 on the ground floor, there were three sided bays with 
 large apertures for windows, the sashes of which had dis- 
 appeared. Over-head were half decaying beams and the 
 walls of the upper rooms were shattered and in ruins. The 
 house had evidently been pulled to pieces for building 
 material, and its dark recesses and door-ways were in 
 strong contrast to those parts which were lit up by the 
 bright rays of the moon. I did not care to make any 
 close inspeftion of the place at such an hour, but at the 
 entrance door I fell in with an old horse that was mum- 
 bling at the short grass that grew there. Going up to it I 
 patted it, and then a slight noise inside the ruined house 
 attrafted my attention, and I turned round, and as I did 
 so the moon's beams fell on the horse and me. 
 
 Suddenly there was a yell of " Oh me God, " Look 
 McFarlane and Miss Tofeles ! !" and three men rushed 
 out through a window and fled as if indeed they had seen 
 a ghost. I walked on to where they had been and found 
 
2o8 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 some kegs and boxes, with a shovel and a recently dug 
 hole. 
 
 It was no business of mine, so I walked back to the 
 sloop and thence to the police station where the one con- 
 stable, on learning who I was, gave me quarters for the 
 night. 
 
 Next day, I found out that a few days before a sugar- 
 laden ship from Tobago had been stranded on the reef 
 near Petit Sangaree, and some people of the island who 
 had wrecked her cargo were concealing their plunder in 
 old McFarlane's house, when they were disturbed by two 
 figures which they believed to be apparitions of the long 
 lost McFarlane and his horse, Mephistopheles. 
 
 A JURY. 
 
 IN the good old days, with Sugar at ^50 a hhd., and 
 merchants willing to give unlimited credit, Bara- 
 taria flourished, at all events when Sir Gregory 
 Graplin ruled it. He had done gallant deeds in the 
 Peninsula and was rewarded with a Government. He 
 had little trouble, his word was law, and if there was any 
 fri&ion between the Executive and the Legislature a dinner 
 or a dance cured the evil. 
 
 So with good prices and plenty of money in circulation, 
 a somewhat large garrison, a tolerably frequent visit of a 
 frigate, and the prettiest girls in all the West Indies, 
 Barataria was as jolly a place as could be. 
 
 Then Sir Gregory died, and other Governors came who 
 went in for high politics, despised dances and dinners 
 
A Jury. 209 
 
 and so made more or less a muddle of affairs. The 
 visits of ships of war became scarce, and the garrison was 
 withdrawn, and Barataria from being joyous and gay 
 drooped into a slow, dull colony. But once upon a time, 
 a squadron arrived, and there was considerable excite- 
 ment. The usual landing of the Admiral under salutes, 
 the display of local forces, militia and police, dinners on 
 shore and on board, delightful picnics and excursions to 
 the various natural beauties of the island, impromptu 
 ' hops/ liberal leave to " Jack" who took unstinted ad- 
 vantage of it — almost upset the place ; and steady-going 
 traders unblushing deferred the conclusion of any business 
 till the squadron was gone. Even the Bank manager 
 (who had a couple of pretty daughters) acquiesced. 
 
 Of course there was a big ball. A committee was formed 
 to carry it through. Dunshunner, one of its members, under- 
 took the supper arrangements. Dunshunner's enemies 
 said that by judicious patronage he wiped out some of his 
 own old scores, or at all events warded off a pressing 
 demand or two. The officers from the garrison decorated 
 the rooms most tastefully. Tootle and Bellows, the lead- 
 ing local musicians, superintended the militia band, and 
 the Admiral lent his. Others issued the invitations, men 
 who knew where to draw the line, being acquainted with 
 the history of every family in the colony ; and so the 
 affair was a success. All enjoyed themselves. The 
 supper was excellent. Half-a-dozen happy girls parted 
 with gloves, or ribbons, or rosebuds to gallant partners 
 who vowed and declared they would never, never forget 
 them. The Admiral was eloquent in his acknowledgment 
 of the compliment paid him, and the squadron he had 
 
 2 D 
 
210 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 the honour to command, praised the island and its 
 Governor, flattered the ladies, buttered (if I may so say) 
 the men, and was voted chorally a jolly good fellow. No 
 end of tiffs and quarrels were made up that evening. 
 Men shook hands and agreed to let " that matter drop f 
 women who declared no power on earth should ever 
 make them speak to each other, literally kissed and made 
 friends ; and really it appeared that West Indian pros- 
 perity and happiness could always be brought about by 
 the visit of one or more ships of war. 
 
 In one respeft the Admiral's visit was inopportune. 
 The Criminal Court was in session. 
 
 Now in Barataria the building where laws are made 
 and enforced is a grim two-storied ereftion of no archi- 
 tectural beauty. The ground floor of the main building 
 was used as a Court of Justice. Two rooms above it 
 were the halls in which the Legislative Council (or House 
 of Lords) and the House of Assembly (or Commons) sate 
 and deliberated, and smaller ones were the private rooms 
 of the Judges, President and Speaker. 
 
 In Barataria there was no town hall or other building 
 available for public balls, and so the upper storey of the 
 Court house was used for the purpose, while the Court 
 itself below served as a supper-room. 
 
 When the squadron came and the ball was determined 
 on, the Chief Justice was induced to suspend the sitting 
 of the Court for one day, to allow of the necessary 
 arrangements, on the understanding that all signs of 
 revelry would be removed, and the hall in statu quo ante 
 when the Court reassembled. And so it was. When the 
 last reveller had gone — and it seemed as if some would 
 
A Jury. 211 
 
 never go — the tables were removed, and the place swept 
 and washed, and all made ready for the administration 
 of justice. 
 
 The Inspector of Police had, it is true, omitted to re- 
 move the fire brigade ladder which he had placed against 
 one of the upper windows of the building in case of need, 
 but the hose and engine had been wheeled away early in 
 the morning, and no one could have told that there had 
 been any festivity over night. 
 
 I don't say that Judges, Juries, Barristers and Officials 
 are not more than human, but the proceedings of the 
 next day went languidly. The Chief Justice was evidently 
 thirsty, and a bailiff was despatched at intervals for some- 
 thing which may have been water, probably was, but a false 
 delicacy in wrapping the tumbler in a napkin so as to 
 conceal its contents instead of bringing it on a waiter, led 
 to several uncharitable remarks. The Marshal too was 
 noticed to cry " Silence" more often than was his wont, 
 and then to rush out of Court in pnrsuit of an imaginary 
 offender, and' had he not invariably wiped his moustache 
 on his return, people would not have indulged in doubt- 
 less wrong suspicions. The Jury also were thirsty, but 
 there is no reason to suspect, that they were supplied with 
 aught but pure water ; altogether there was an arid look 
 about the whole company, and the work went on but 
 slowly. The case was one of larceny, and must have 
 presented some difficulty, for the Jury retired to de- 
 liberate, and according to custom were conducted up- 
 stairs into the vast Legislative Hall in charge of a vener- 
 able old negro constable, whose white head and massive 
 staff, to say nothing of evening dress clothes, were 
 
2X2 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 evidence of incorruptible respe&ability. Here they re- 
 mained until morning. People who had been up late the 
 previous night, as they turned in, pitied those poor devils 
 of jurymen, and lazily speculated as to what were the 
 points of difficulty, and who the obstinate minority. 
 
 When the next morning came, and it struck ten, and 
 the Court was opened, it was evident that something had 
 occurred. The Marshal was seen in anxious, nervous 
 conversation with his subordinates. The Inspector of 
 Police, who was a bit of a wag, was on the broad grin. 
 The Judge looked perplexed, and the Attorney General 
 was turning over the leaves of half-a-dozen law books. 
 
 " Better call in the Jury," said His Honour. 
 
 The white-haired constable grasped his rod of office, 
 and trotted out. Presently he returned at the head of as 
 queer a set of jurymen as ever were seen. They could 
 not walk steadily, their dress was disarranged, their hair 
 ail brushed the wrong way. Paler faces, more downcast 
 features, fishier eyes could not be. As their names 
 were called, each replied in a whisper from parched lips, 
 and they slunk into their seats more like criminals than 
 jurors. 
 
 The Attorney General then rose and said that he had 
 to bring to the notice of the Court a painful, and he 
 believed, unprecedented occurrence. His Honour was 
 probably aware that two evenings ago an entertainment 
 had been given in that building. 
 
 His Honour made a note as if he had only then heard 
 of it. 
 
 Some wine — the Attorney General believed he was 
 correct in describing it as Champagne — to the extent of 
 
A Jury. 213 
 
 three or four cases had remained unopened and had been 
 placed in one of the rooms above. The Jury now in 
 Court had retired to consider their verdict. Enquiry had 
 been made at a late hour, but it was found that they were 
 not likely to agree, and they were locked up for the 
 night. He regretted to say that those jurymen had abused 
 the confidence placed in them, and instead of considering 
 the evidence in that case, had broken open a case (no 
 levity was meant) of that wine. The constable in charge 
 of the jury very properly had the wine at once removed 
 to his own quarters in the Court yard — but he, the 
 Attorney General, regretted to say that the jurymen got 
 out of their room — out of that building indeed, by means 
 of a ladder left by the police — broke open the door of the 
 constable's quarters — took the three or four dozen wine, 
 and drank it either there or in the jury room on their 
 return, or in both places, but that was immaterial. The 
 result was — but he could only point to the appearance 
 of those jurymen, and leave the case in His Honour's 
 hands. 
 
 Then there was a long pause — 
 
 " Gentlemen ! have you considered your verdicV' asked 
 the Judge. 
 
 The jury shook their twelve heads. 
 
 " Mr. Foreman, you have heard the Attorney General's 
 statement." 
 
 " Yesh, Y'r Honour," replied the foreman standing up, 
 but grasping the rail of the jurybox, " can only shay — 
 feel position placed in by conduck of Shury — pumckly 
 'graceful — tried reshtrain Shury from drinking sham- 
 pagne — Shury wouldn't listen — wanted fight — gave it up — 
 
214 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 puffickly 'graceful." And the foreman sate down and 
 buried his face in a very grimy handkerchief. 
 
 " Your Honour, " said a juryman, jumping up, " What 
 our respe&ed fo'man says is all lies, he was as bad as the 
 rest— more so." 
 
 And then a third got up. And so on till each of the 
 twelve had his say, each protesting he was sober, but 
 their speech betrayed them. 
 
 " Mr. Attorney," said the Judge, " this is most sad. I 
 doubt if I am not called on to mark the sense of the 
 indignity passed upon the Court, and the — the heinous- 
 ness of the offence committed by these unhappy men — " 
 " Mercy ! mercy !" murmured the foreman. 
 "By," continued the Judge, " incarceration, that is, 
 imprisonment." 
 
 " Oh Lord" said one man, " and I am going to make 
 sugar on Monday." 
 
 "Mos' happy to pay for wine Your Honour, don't 
 want to be incarcer — hie — arcerated" — said another. 
 
 " Silence" said the Marshal so gruffly that the Jury one 
 and all burst into tears. 
 
 " Do my Honour — do, I beg, take money — don't send 
 us to jail. I've got wife and family" said another jury- 
 man. 
 
 "As you show some signs of contrition" — said the 
 Judge after a whispered conference with the Attorney 
 General — " I shall not inflift so severe a punishment, 
 much as you may deserve it — but you will observe that 
 you are guilty of contempt — of larceny — of breaking and 
 entering — however you each will pay ^5." 
 
 The fines were paid on the spot, and the jurymen 
 
Coincidences — Strange but True. 215 
 
 looked relieved, and one of them to shew his willingness 
 to make amends by performing his duty, asked the 
 Judge if he would like them to go back and consider 
 their verdift, but His Honour thundered out " No, you 
 are discharged — begone !" and the jurors sneaked out of 
 the Court. 
 
 The prisoner looked up from the dock and meekly 
 asked, " Please Your Honour, you could let me go 
 becasin' me no tief half so bad as dem jury." 
 
 The Attorney General caught the Judge's eye, and 
 moved a nol pros., and so the affair ended. 
 
 COINCIDENCES—STRANGE BUT TRUE. 
 
 CROSSLEY, the Doctor, Inspector Vann, and I, 
 the Coroner, were seated in the verandah of my 
 house in St. Molasses, looking out across a 
 deep dark ravine ot bamboos, palms and ferns, and 
 a wooded hill to where the sea sparkled in the 
 moonlight. We had had a long ride and a somewhat 
 exciting day, and having dined, we were smoking our 
 pipes, repairing waste of tissue, and at peace with all the 
 world. At Paul's Trust (a sugar estate not far off) there 
 had been a death under suspicious circumstances, and 
 we three officials had assisted, as the French say, at the 
 inquest. 
 
 Phoebe McCurious — into which queer surname a Scotch 
 planter had twisted the classic name Mercurius, borne 
 by some slave ancestor of Phoebe's — was engaged to be 
 married to Bill Othello, and, until the wedding day arrived, 
 
216 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 Phoebe had taken up her residence with Bill, and owing 
 to several causes this had gone on for about eighteen 
 months, when one day Bill became jealous, and having 
 signified his displeasure by smashing everything break- 
 able in the house, and slashing the bed, table and benches 
 into bits, turned Phoebe out on the world with a bundle 
 of clothes and anything but his blessing. But Phcebe 
 who was philosophe en j upon accepted the situation and 
 obtained a shelter elsewhere, and though the former 
 friendly relations were never restored between her and 
 Bill, after a while they exchanged " Howd'ye" when they 
 met, as if they had never quarrelled. A few months 
 passed and Phoebe found favour in the sight of Joe 
 Adonis, the head stock-keeper, and as Adonis was com- 
 fortably off, there was no need for delay, and the banns 
 were read for the time. Bill Othello's mind was some- 
 what disturbed at this, and he gave vent to some mysterious 
 remarks which might or might not be taken as threats. 
 
 On the Wednesday after the publication of the banns 
 he met Teresa Jacobs, who was Phoebe's sister on the 
 mother's side, and by her sent a message to Phcebe to 
 the effeft that if she went to the cattle pen next morning, 
 there would be a bottle of milk for her, which she was to 
 take for her own use and not to give any of it to anyone. 
 Phoebe, on receipt of the milk, boiled and drank about 
 half of it. A few minutes after, she was seized with 
 agonizing pains, and, in spite of the hundred and one 
 remedies applied by her excited friends and neighbours, 
 died before the do&or could be fetched. 
 
 The Sergeant of Police was informed of the occurrence, 
 and at once arrested Othello, who was placed in the 
 
Coincidences — Strange but True. 217 
 
 lock-up whither he was escorted by a small crowd who 
 loudly denounced him as the murderer of poor Phoebe. 
 Of course, there was an inquest, and the overseer's house 
 was thronged. Othello was present in custody, and his 
 face wore an anxious dazed look, but he continually pro- 
 tested he was innocent. The public opinion was that he 
 was guilty; effect had never so quickly and naturally 
 followed on cause, as death, in this case, had followed on 
 the drinking of the poisoned milk. 
 
 The circumstances were clearly stated by the witnesses 
 of whom Othello asked no questions, and things looked 
 very black for the prisoner. But Crossley who had gone 
 on with his post mortem examination while the depositions 
 were being taken, came across from the cottage, and 
 declared that he had discovered the cause of death to be 
 the bursting of an internal tumour. The milk had had no 
 ill effect on two children who had drank it, and so of 
 course there was no poisoning, and the jury brought in a 
 verdict of death from natural causes, and Othello was 
 released. We had some fear as to how he might be 
 treated by the people on the estate, but their faith in 
 Crossley was great, so they agreed in the verdict, and 
 Othello was left unmolested. 
 
 We were talking over the affair and the strange coinci- 
 dence of Othello's giving the girl the milk and her dying 
 as she drank it, and then we began to mention other cases 
 of curious coincidences. 
 
 " One of the oddest things I ever knew," said Crossley, 
 " happened in this way. When I had passed my exami- 
 nation, I had no more idea of coming out to the West 
 Indies than of visiting the North Pole, and in fact was 
 
 2 E 
 
218 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 thinking of buying a country practice at home. I was 
 however engaged on some work which took me every 
 day for a couple of months, to the College of Surgeons, 
 and I was there as a rule, punctually at 10, and returned 
 about 4. My lodgings were out Bayswater way, and I 
 always walked when the weather permitted. I noticed 
 after a while that an elderly gentleman took the same 
 route, and at the same hours, and we met with each 
 other so regularly, that at last we walked in company and 
 conversed on the topics of the day. 
 
 " Although a well informed and agreeable companion, 
 he was somewhat stuck up and immensely proud of his 
 family and name which was — we'll say Howard j he was an 
 official of high standing at Somerset house, and, as he 
 told me, owed his advancement to his aristocratic rela- 
 tions, and he used at times to rather bore me with his 
 swell friends and the big houses he visited. His wife 
 too, he told me, was of an excellent old Scottish family, 
 the MacAdams of Glen Eden. 
 
 " In due course, I spent a couple of evenings with the 
 Howards ; they lived in good style, and the wife who was 
 several years her husband's junior, was a quiet but agree- 
 able person. She had been perhaps good looking as a 
 girl, but was evidently delicate, and her sallow colourless 
 complexion contrasted with her jet black hair which she 
 wore in wavy bands over her forehead. She had no 
 family and apparently no accomplishments, but was much 
 interested in Missionary work. 
 
 " Well one day came the news of the death of a distant 
 relative, whom J had never seen, and who, why I can't tell, 
 left me Mount Megass ; and so you see I came out here. 
 
Coincidences — Strange but True. 219 
 
 Before I sailed I took leave of Mr, and Mrs. Howard. 
 They were good enough to express regret at my going 
 away, knew nothing as it appeared, of the West Indies, and 
 I left loaded with their good wishes for my success, and 
 a bundle of tratts for distribution among the poor dear 
 black people of the Island. 
 
 " As you fellows know, very soon after coming here I 
 became engaged to my wife, and as Mount Molasses is 
 not very far from her father's place, I was often there. 
 On one of my visits we were all at breakfast, Mr. and 
 Mrs. Sinclair and the girls and a couple of men, the 
 Magistrate and another, and in the course of conversation 
 I mentioned my acquaintances, the Howards, and des- 
 cribed how we met, and in short, just what I have been 
 telling you. Evidently I had touched on an awkward 
 subjeft. Mrs. Sinclair grew crimson, the old man looked 
 half amused, half perplexed ; and Archbold, the magis- 
 trate who was an old friend of the family, frowned at me. 
 Of course I stopped, and was thankful when we all rose 
 from table. I felt very awkward, but old Sinclair, after 
 a while, said * Crossley, if Margaret will spare you, we'll 
 take a ride round the estate,' and a few minutes after, we 
 were mounted. Several times I was tempted to ask Mr. 
 Sinclair the meaning of the sensation I had caused by 
 mentioning the Howards, but I waited and waited until 
 we came to a newly cut cane piece, in the centre of which 
 was a railed space with several tombs in the enclosure, 
 and outside of it one of brick. Mr. Sinclair pulled up 
 and pointing to them said : ■ There, Crossley, is the burial 
 ground of the MacAdams, Mrs. Sinclair's family. There 
 are three generations of them there, and in yon tomb 
 
220 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 that's outside the rails rest the remains of your friend 
 Mrs. Howard's mother/ 
 
 1 Good Heavens !' I said ' how extraordinary, Are 
 you quite sure ? because when I mentioned I was coming 
 here, Mrs. Howard never said she had even heard of the 
 place.' 
 
 * As likely as not, my boy. Ye see, my wife's uncle, 
 Sandie MacAdam was never married, and so he left the 
 estate to her — but — well he had a house keeper, it was in 
 the old slavery times — and — and so — well I leave you to 
 guess the rest; — but my agents pay your friend Mrs. 
 Howard an annuity of ^"300 a year that her father 
 charged on the estate.' 
 
 "That's a queer story," said Vann, and I assented, 
 and we for a while talked of the odd chance that made 
 Crossley as it were a link belween Mrs. Howard and his 
 future wife's family. 
 
 Then I was asked If I knew of no odd coincidence, 
 and told my friends as follows : — 
 
 Years ago when I had just left college. I made the 
 acquaintance of an old London Solicitor whose clients 
 were West End people, and he had an office in Savile 
 Row in a fine old house, in the upper part of which he 
 lived. He was a widower with a widowed daughter who 
 kept his house ; and with them lived his ward, a young 
 lady of about twenty-five. She had an English name, 
 Rose Murray, but there was a half-foreign look about her, 
 owing perhaps to her wearing her hair in a fashion quite 
 uncommon then, but afterwards brought into vogue by 
 the Empress Eugenie. She was of rather a queer dis- 
 position, and given to undue merriment on very small 
 
Coincidences, — Strange but True. 221 
 
 provocation. I know I often made remarks in which I 
 could see nothing to warrant the laughter with which she 
 greeted them, and I didn't like her manners nor did I 
 like her. I understood she was an orphan, that her 
 father who held some appointment abroad, had left her a 
 small income, and had consigned her to Mr. Welby's care 
 after his death, which had occurred about a twelve month 
 previously. One day I had gone to Mr. Welby's at his 
 invitation to accompany his daughter, Mrs. Miles, and 
 Miss Murray to some Exhibition — I think the Academy — 
 and we were in an ante-room opening into the large 
 drawing-room, about to take a biscuit and glass of sherry 
 before starting, when a carriage stopped, and there came 
 a very loud knock, at the door. Then a servant brought 
 in a card which Mr, Welby took. He became very much 
 agitated, and told the man to show the lady into the 
 drawing-room, and we could hear the frou-frou of her 
 dress as she mounted the stairs. Mr. Welby held the 
 handle of the door of the ante-room as if to prevent the 
 visitor entering, and when she had reached the drawing- 
 room, he left us. ' Some one on business, my dear,' he 
 said to his daughter, ' remain here/ 
 
 We three sipped our sherry, and Miss Murray said she 
 wondered who the lady could be. Presently we others 
 also wondered, for sounds of most passionate entreaty fell 
 on our ears, coupled with firm refusal from Mr. Welby. 
 What the subjed of the conversation was we could not 
 tell, but evidently the lady was imploring Mr. Welby to 
 tell her something which he declared he could not 
 divulge. He had passed his word, he said, and he could 
 not — would not — break it. 
 
222 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 This went on for some twenty minutes, when Mr. 
 Welby entered the ante-room looking very pale and dis- 
 tressed. Without saying a word to us, he took a glass of 
 wine into the next room. Soon after, a bell rang and he 
 escorted his visitor downstairs. 
 
 Mrs. Miles and I were a good deal disturbed by all 
 this, but Miss Murray was differently arretted. She 
 laughed immoderately, and began to imitate the lady's 
 imploring voice and words, * For God's sake, tell me — do 
 not be so cruel !' and she clasped her hands, and made 
 no end of grimaces as she repeated the lady's words ; 
 then with a peal of laughter asked us if that was not a 
 good imitation, and when we were silent, she became 
 sulky. 
 
 On Mr. Welby's return he was evidently much upset. 
 He said he must forego the little treat he had looked for- 
 ward to in going to the Academy, and as evidently some- 
 thing very distressful had occurred, Mrs. Miles said our 
 visit must be postponed, and I took my leave. 
 
 Some time after I learned that the mysterious visitor 
 was none other than Miss Murray's mother ! Her father 
 and mother had separated for some fault of the latter — 
 well, she had run away with Lord Somebody— and the 
 father being ordered abroad, left his daughter under Mr. 
 Welby's care with stritt injunttions never to let his wife 
 know where her child was. Mr. Welby kept the trust, 
 and shortly after, Mr. Murray died ; Lord Somebody also 
 quitted the world, and the unhappy mother strove to find 
 where her child was. Naturally, she applied to her 
 husband's solicitor, with the result that I have told you 
 More recently, I heard she died, — rather a melancholy 
 
Coincidences, — Strange but True. 223 
 
 end if I remember right, and Miss Murray married. I 
 have often thought of that strange coincidence, the mother 
 in her agony in one room, and the daughter in the other 
 indulging in M taking off'' the poor woman's distress. 
 
 We were silent for a while, and then Vann said — 
 
 " I don't think either of you were ever in St. Maria and 
 therefore you don't know that Petit Sangaree lies opposite 
 to St. Maria, of which it is a dependency. Between them is a 
 deep channel which sometimes is as smooth and glassy 
 as a mountain tarn, and at others, is a roaring sluice 
 when the waves leap high and the " Bull," as a tall conical 
 rock at the mouth of the smaller island is named, is 
 covered with sheets of foam that'rush up one side of it to 
 fall on the other in silvery spray. One day the passage 
 may be safely made in the smallest canoe, on another the 
 pluckiest sailor in the smartest coaster shakes his head 
 and "funks" it. 
 
 Once upon a time, I was staying with my friend Mar- 
 chant who was a proprietor in St. Maria and owned 
 another smaller island beyond Petit Sangaree where he 
 grew sugar. I had never been to this place — it was called 
 Mouchette — and so when he invited me to run down 
 with him for a couple of days, I gladly said * yes.' However 
 the evening before the day of our departure, I was sum- 
 moned elsewhere on duty, and next morning when we 
 parted, I left him busy with his preparations and full of 
 kindly regret at my inability to accompany him. 
 
 Two days after, I was riding homewards after a busy 
 day, hot and weary, and envying my friend who as I 
 thought was then enjoying the bracing breezes that at 
 that time of the year blew over Petit Sangaree, and the 
 
224 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 adjacent chain of islands. At one point my road ran 
 close to the sea, and on reaching the beach where a boat 
 had just landed, the boatmen shouted, and as I halted, 
 one of them brought me a letter — it was to announce 
 poor Marchant's death ! — he had been drowned the 
 previous night on his return from Mouchette off the 
 " Bull" in sight of his home which was perched on the 
 opposite headland. 
 
 I was much shocked at the news and remembered how 
 this was not the first occasion on which I had been pre- 
 vented joining a trip that had ended disastrously for 
 others, as this might have done for me. 
 
 Reaching home, I had to break the news to my wife, 
 who was a relative of Mrs. Marchant, and the next day 
 she went up to our poor friend's house where we learned 
 that on the day of his departure for Mouchette, something 
 had occurred to delay the sailing of the schooner, and 
 Marchant had returned home to wait until it was ready. 
 He expressed himself as most unwilling to go over to 
 Mouchette but business compelled him ; and ultimately 
 he left. When about to return, he was advised not to 
 attempt the passage as the weather was threatening, but 
 he persisted. Off the '• Bull" a squall struck his vessel 
 and threw her on her beam ends ; the crew at once took 
 to the boat, and deserted our poor friend, who was below 
 at the time, and who was thus miserably drowned. This 
 happened at about 10 at night. 
 
 That evening, Mrs. Marchant who was an invalid, had 
 gone to bed when she was awakened by her husband's 
 voice calling for help. She aroused an old servant who 
 slept in the same room and who also heard the cry. They 
 
The Commander-in-Chief Defied. 225 
 
 concluded that Mr. Marchant had landed, and ridden up 
 a short cut leading to the house where some accident had 
 befallen him. As they listened, the cries were renewed, 
 and the servant hastily dressing, roused the people in the 
 negro yard. They turned out to look for their " massa," 
 but could find no traces of him, and the next morning the 
 cowardly crew of the schooner landed, bringing a garbled 
 and confused account of the accident and how it hap- 
 pened. 
 
 As the St. Maria Channel is several miles wide and the 
 night was a boisterous one, it is impossible that the cries 
 heard by Mrs. Marchant and her servant could have been 
 carried that distance ; and yet was it another coincidence, 
 strange but true ? 
 
 THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF DEFIED. 
 
 IN the olden days, as a rule, there was not much work 
 for the Governor and Legislature of a West Indian 
 colony, if one may judge by the Statute Books, 
 records of Councils and Assembly, and copies of des- 
 patches of the last century, but very often there was a 
 good deal of fuss over what now seems a trifling affair. 
 
 I remember once coming across an old copy of the 
 minutes of the Privy Council of a West Indian Island, for 
 a portion of the year 1766. There were not many entries 
 in it, and His Majesty's Council appears to have met at 
 very long intervals for very short periods. There was an 
 occurrence, however, which had evidently caused great 
 excitement, and had to be dealt with promptly, and so 
 
 2 F 
 
226 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 the Council had met twice a week for a fortnight, and 
 members had come in from North and East and West, 
 and remained at their posts until the matter was decided. 
 I wish I could transcribe the minutes of those meetings, 
 for reading them would convey better than anything 
 I can write, the importance of honourable members, the 
 dignified language used, and the sense of relief at a crisis 
 happily averted. 
 
 Following the Parliamentary usage of the day, the 
 President who was administering the Government in the 
 absence of the Governor, is described as His Honour 
 B. B n and the names of the other members are in- 
 dicated by their initial and final letters. 
 
 At one of the meetings of His Majesty's Privy Council, 
 composed of the Officer administering the Government 
 and members cf the Legislative Council, then nominated 
 by the Crown, the proceedings at which are noted in the 
 book in question, His Honour informed the members 
 that he had called them together on a matter of the 
 gravest moment. It would be unnecessary to remind 
 them that on the departure of His Excellency the Gover- 
 nor, the Government of the colony had devolved on him. 
 He had accordingly been sworn in and assumed that 
 position which he was conscious he could not fill satis- 
 factorily without the help of honourable members ; and 
 even at the threshold of his tenure of office, he was met 
 by a serious difficulty, to extricate himself from which he 
 relied on the support and advice of those, his constitu- 
 tional advisers. 
 
 He had to inform them that on his requiring Captain 
 James of His Majesty's 77th regiment of Foot, the senior 
 
 
The Commander-in-Chief Defied. 227. 
 
 military officer, to report to him and to receive from him 
 the Parole, that officer had refused so to do, — adding that 
 as a military man he had never, and would never take 
 orders from a civilian. 
 
 Such embarrassing conduft, to use no harsher word, on 
 the part of Captain James appears to have moved the 
 Council, for they at once resolved that His Honour do 
 write to Lieutenant O'Brien then " lying on detachment 
 at Blooming Bay," directing him to repair to Head 
 Quarters, to place under arrest Captain James and to 
 assume the command of His Majesty's troops ; and the 
 Council adjourned, for a few days only, when they again 
 met. 
 
 President B. B n had then indeed a weighty matter 
 
 to bring before them, and one can imagine the knitted 
 brows of the grave and potent seigniors as they heard 
 read a letter from Lieutenant O'Brien, who presenting his 
 humble duty to His Honour, took leave to observe that 
 he had never read in Military (or for that matter Profane) 
 History, that an officer should be directed in affairs 
 Military, by one (however Exalted his Rank) who did not 
 belong to that honourable Profession, and that moreover, 
 he could not take upon himself the charge of placing 
 under arrest his Superior Officer save for certain matters 
 when committed, as laid down in His Majesty's Regu- 
 lations. 
 
 The minutes are dry records of what was done — not 
 what was said, — and so the burning words in which the 
 astonishment and resentment of the Privy Couneil mem- 
 bers were couched are lost to us. But they were not to 
 be done — for they resolved that His Honour do write to 
 
228 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 Ensign Flaherty of His Majesty's 77th regiment of Foot 
 lying at Cumberland Bay requiring him without delay to 
 place under arrest Captain James and Lieutenant O'Brien, 
 and take command of His Majesty's troops in that 
 Island. 
 
 It is doubtful whether Ensign Flaherty might not have 
 sprung into fame on this occasion, but at the next meeting 
 of the Council, the President laid before his confreres a 
 letter from that gallant officer, in which he says that he is 
 " somewhat uncertain how far it would be competent to 
 him as a junior officer, (who had but lately joined his 
 regiment) to obey the orders of a Civil Governor and 
 place under arrest his Superiors, but that for the present 
 he must put forward as sufficient reason for not complying 
 with His Honour's dire&ions, a sharp attack of fever, 
 which prevented his leaving his quarters and incapaci- 
 tated him for duty." 
 
 This of course, left matters as they were, and possibly 
 there was no other officer to whom President Brown could 
 repeat his order. One rather feels for the old gentleman 
 in his dilemma, and shares the gratification with which 
 he subsequently announced to the Council " that he hath 
 received advices of the speedy arrival of His Excellency 
 Sir Ul— -sses F — tzm— -e" (which of course no one could 
 take for Ulysses Fitzmaurice) and that as His Majesty's 
 ship of war conveying His Excellency might be daily 
 looked for, it might be expedient to defer until His 
 Excellency's arrival, further action in this untoward affair. 
 
They Stuck to the Ship. 229 
 
 THEY STUCK TO THE SHIP. 
 
 ONE of our Baratarian worthies was an honest 
 straightforward gentleman of the olden school, 
 who had raised himself from a humble position 
 to one of wealth and honour in the little island, and some 
 people who held that blood will tell, readily believed in 
 the legend that Mr. Crooke's grandfather was a scion of 
 historic family, who had fled to the West Indies from 
 Scotland for political reasons, and had taken a different 
 name to his own, which his descendants never resumed. 
 
 I don't know the why or wherefore, unless indeed, it 
 were his Scottish origin, but old Mr. Crooke was of an 
 extremely cautious — nay, suspicious character — and his 
 unwillingness to go into society, or to meet strangers, was 
 probably due to this. His wife was equally retiring, and 
 the old couple were regular stay-at-homes, although to 
 their acquaintances they were most hospitable. 
 
 Business and the recommendation of the do&ors ren- 
 dered it necessary for Mr. Crooke to visit England, and 
 Mrs. Crooke, from whom he was inseparable, was not to 
 be left behind. The old couple had neither of them ever 
 been " at home," and the approaching journey was a 
 very serious matter. Mr. Crookes scorned the idea of 
 travelling in a " beastly, smoky, dirty steamer" since he 
 owned, along with several other vessels, a clipper barque, 
 the " Aurora," that made the fastest runs to London and 
 was always kept in the trimmest, neatest order. 
 
 And as for time — was it not the sea voyage that was 
 prescribed for them ? and thirty days of it would not be 
 too much. Well, the worthy couple left in their yacht, as 
 
230 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 they called the Aurora, — and in due time returned safely 
 and improved in health, bringing with them no end of 
 presents for friends, old and young. They were full of 
 what they had seen, although for the three weeks they 
 were on land, they appeared to have remained in London, 
 to the description of which wonderful place their narratives 
 were confined. 
 
 One of their friends, who was favoured with an account 
 of all they saw and all they did, enquired about theatres. 
 
 " Didn't go to any" said Mr. Crooke. 
 
 " Not go to a theatre ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Perhaps you object, to them on principle." 
 
 " Not that, but d'ye see the Dock gates close so con- 
 foundedly early, — six o'clock." 
 
 " I don't quite understand." 
 
 "Why, we had to be aboard by then. You don't 
 suppose I was going into a dirty hotel, or stuffy lodging, 
 while we had our own cabin in the Aurora ! No thank 
 ye!" 
 
 And so it was ; the good old couple had " stuck to the 
 ship" and had in consequence, never seen London by gas 
 light. 
 
 MY FIRST "BIRTHDAY" BALL. 
 
 NOT long after my arrival in Barataria where I 
 filled the responsible post of Private Secretary, 
 it became necessary for the Governor to give a 
 Ball " in celebration of Her Majesty's Birthday." I was 
 young, and my inexperience relieved me of the duty of 
 providing the refreshments, solid and liquid, which the 
 
My First "Birthday" Ball. 231 
 
 Governor and his wife undertook to supervise with the 
 assistance of a most delightful old black man, who, from 
 his long and faithful service, might have been Hereditary- 
 Grand Caterer, but the invitations, decorations, music, 
 &c, were entrusted to me. 
 
 Of course, every one who had called at Government 
 House was to be invited, and all who had omitted to pay 
 their respe&s to Her Majesty's representative were, as a 
 rule, to be left out in the cold, and so to work I went. 
 There was a visitors' book, and a bundle of visitors' cards, 
 and from these I had to make a list which at the outset, 
 seemed a very hard task. When I had completed it, we 
 thought we would submit it to one of His Excellency's 
 official advisers who knew everything about everyone in 
 Barataria, and a terrible criticism my poor list underwent 
 in consequence. X. and Mrs. X. were all right, but 
 young X. "was an awful young snob and was never 
 asked anywhere." The O. family — well of course, — they 
 must be asked, but " it was to be hoped O. would come 
 sober, " and so on. Some names were added because, 
 poor people, the want of means of conveyance had pre- 
 vented their calling, or they lived so far away, and though 
 they wouldn't come, still they would fe^ hurt if omitted, 
 and, in the same way, many additions and emendations 
 were proposed and adopted. Then, being new comers, 
 we took further means to ensure safety, and consulted 
 some lady leaders* of society, with the result that the 
 advice of our first adviser was in some respe&s over-ruled 
 and the list again altered. Ultimately I had a string of 
 names, and sent out the cards, and before long in came 
 the replies. Mr. P, (a gentleman who on political prin- 
 
232 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 ciples, never entered Government House, but as a matter 
 of policy was asked) wanted to know why his wife was 
 not invited. P. was a suggestion of our official adviser, 
 who coolly told me " he had forgotten Mrs. P.," so I had 
 to apologize and send an amended card. Q. " had great 
 pleasure in accepting," but asked to be allowed to bring 
 his wife's mother, formerly a constant habitat of Govern- 
 ment House entertainments. I found the old lady was 
 80, and that Q. meant habituee. Then Mr. Theophilus 
 T. accepted, but informed me that his son Grandison had 
 completed his education at one of the best seminaries at 
 Peckham, near London, and had come out to his native 
 isle, and that an opportunity for Grandison to make his 
 d£but in polite society would be acceptable. So Gran- 
 dison was asked. I remember he got very tight at an 
 early hour, and was sent home. Then Mr. C., who was 
 an official of high degree, was indignant at Mrs. C. not 
 being asked. S., our adviser, informed us it was im- 
 possible to invite Mrs. C, who had formerly occupied a 
 position in the market where she sold cakes — and then 
 had held what he called " an acting appointment" in C's 
 household, and that in short, if she entered the room, 
 every lady would leave it. Well, of course, I had to tell 
 C. that the invitation he received was what was in- 
 tended. Then he wrote asking for an interview with the 
 Governor, who declined. Then he appealed to me to 
 give him an opportunity of " dispelling the clouds that 
 rested on Mrs. C's fair fame" as he* eloquently put it. 
 This could not be either, and there the matter dropped, 
 but I was not very comfortable when the Governor told 
 me his former P.S. in Cannibaland, (his last Government) 
 
My First "Birthday Ball." 233 
 
 was called out by an indignant Artillery officer, whose 
 wife, not being presentable, was excluded from Govern- 
 ment House invitations. These are but a few examples 
 of the troubles that beset me, and I was heartily glad 
 when the invitations were done with. 
 
 Government House was an agglomeration of rooms, the 
 result of extensions and additions by each of the dozen 
 Governors who had inhabited it, but the two apartments 
 that were to do duty as ball room and supper room were 
 fairly spacious, and separated by a movable screen resting 
 against two pillars, between each of which and the wall 
 was a space closed by a sliding door. 
 
 The ball room was rather low, and from its ceiling and 
 sides there hung bronze oil lamps of an antique des- 
 cription. In those days kerosine was unknown. The 
 table lamps (moderateurs) were liable to sudden ex- 
 tinction by any gust of wind, and so as a rule, candles en- 
 closed in tall glass cylinders or barrels, were the means 
 adopted for lighting a room. On this occasion we stuck 
 candles in glass shades round a wooden disc slung from 
 the ceiling, and which to some extent, was concealed by a 
 half balloon of pink muslin caught up below with rosettes 
 and leaves, that gave the apartment a sort of circus-like 
 air. 
 
 Inexperienced people, especially friends at home, 
 always think that decorating a room in the tropics is 
 easy, because " there is such beautiful foliage." Now-a- 
 days, with gas and perhaps electric light, foliage is more 
 effective than formerly, when masses of leaves, in a far 
 from brilliantly lighted apartment, looked funereal ; but 
 on the occasion to which I am referring, the room thaj 
 
 2 G 
 
234 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 by day was a bower of greenery, by night was as lively 
 as a coal cellar, at least it would have been so but for the 
 flags which were draped here and there. Oh ! those 
 flags ! they were borrowed from the mercantile marine, 
 and were quite too awfully redolent of tar. They gave 
 one the idea of a hop at a Dental Hospital where each of 
 the guests had applied creosote to an aching tooth. I 
 can smell them now! There being no garrison, there 
 was no band, and so the music gave us great concern. 
 We had clung to the hope that one of H.M. ships would 
 have called in, and then we could have borrowed her 
 band, but this was not to be. The only professional 
 music obtainable was a fiddle, tambourine, and triangle, 
 but this His Excellency would not hear of, as being low 
 and common. There was a young man who played the 
 flute pretty well, and to whom an honorarium would have 
 been acceptable, but a Government House party could 
 hardly be expe&ed to dance for hours to nothing but a 
 flute, and so we had to depend on the Governor's piano, 
 and the kind help of guests. 
 
 The only vehicle, besides the Governor's carriage, in 
 or near town, was a gig, and the majority of our guests 
 had either to foot it for a mile and a half (for Govern- 
 ment House was that distance from the metropolis), or to 
 ride their horses or mules. It was in the days of crinoline, 
 and when a lady was mounted, her capacious skirts 
 swagged out, and had to be confined beneath a shawl, 
 so that a procession of those lopsided figures in the moon- 
 light looked weird and uncanny in the extreme. Behind 
 some of them trotted boys, carrying on their heads 
 baskets containing additional gear, to be donned at the 
 
My First "Birthday Ball." 235 
 
 last moment, and of course there were cavaliers escorting 
 these damsels. Some of the prudent ones, who had 
 ridden far, had their coat tails pinned up to their 
 collars for the avoidance of contact, with their perspiring 
 steeds. Not a few of the animals had to repeat the 
 journey many times, being lent by generous owners. And 
 that gig — I think it was old B. and his stout wife who 
 first borrowed it, promising to send it back to F., its 
 owner, who was anxious to be early at the ball, but as 
 the boy on his return approached the town, he was 
 seduced by fair words and shillings, to convey pedestrians 
 up to Government House, and this was repeated so often, 
 that F. was very late, and Miss G. had given away all her 
 dances, and the pony was unfit for work for weeks after. 
 At that time, the Baratarians did not consider it polite 
 to be too early at a ball, and so our arrangements were 
 all complete before the first arrivals made their appear- 
 ance. The P.S. received them, and they stood about in 
 silent groups of two and three. There were some en- 
 quiries after His Excellency and Mrs. , in a manner 
 
 suggesting fears that their nonappearance was due to ill 
 health, and I heard old R., who had escorted his three 
 daughters, mutter that in his time Governors were always 
 ready to welcome their guests — but we were going 
 on Cannibaland procedure. I was waiting for young 
 Master S. who was reported to be very clever on the 
 piano. At last he came, and pouncing on the obliging 
 lad, I placed him at the Broadwood, whispered directions 
 in his ear, and gave the concerted signal ; a sliding door 
 was drawn back, a voice announced His Excellency the 
 Governor, and in walked Her Majesty's representative in 
 
336 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 full uniform, with his wife, bowing to the assembled 
 company; while Master S. played the National Anthem 
 with one finger on the piano. It would have been more 
 imposing had we had a band, and somehow this opening 
 ceremony fell a little flat, and I think in after years, we 
 avoided the Cannibaland fashion in this respeft. 
 
 The opening ceremony being over, the next thing was 
 the first quadrille, to join in which was only permitted to 
 the upper ten, represented by a rotund Chief Justice, 
 with mutton chop whiskers and little boucles of rather 
 frizzly grey hair, two Law Officers of the Crown, both 
 small, but one agile and " chirpy," and the other grave 
 and sedate, with a reverend specimen of the Muscular 
 Christian, and the Colonial Surgeon, a dapper little man, 
 with a head as bare as a billiard ball, who was much 
 given to racing. 
 
 I forget now who their partners were, but you may be 
 sure they had been carefully sele&ed with due regard to 
 precedence. Good tempered Mrs. M. and her daughter, 
 excellent musicians, were seated at the piano, and the 
 u British Navy Quadrilles" were played with great effecl:, 
 and danced to with much solemnity. There were no 
 frivolous gigglings and whisperings, but the dancers de- 
 ported themselves as officials of high degree, engaged in 
 a grave duty, might be expe&ed to do. 
 
 I have not mentioned that what His Excellency wore 
 was the now rarely seen Windsor uniform, a blue double- 
 breasted coat with swallow tails, many silver buttons and a 
 huge pair of epaulettes, silver laced trousers, and a 
 scimitar shaped sword. It was the only uniform visible 
 that evening, but on subsequent occasions Naval and 
 
My First "Birthday Ball." 237 
 
 Military blue and scarlet frequently relieved the sombre 
 hue of civilian dress. After the opening dance, the 
 guests " went a head" and enjoyed themselves. They 
 waltzed — none of the affectations and vulgarities one has 
 witnessed in later years, such as Whitechapel wobbles 
 and Limehouse lurches *-but good honest trois-temps, 
 and there were polkas and schottisches, galops, and more 
 square dances. Everybody danced, young and old, for 
 in my day, Private Secretaries and Aides took care that 
 there were no wall-flowers, and it was an understood 
 thing that the veriest old dowager, if she wished to dance, 
 should be led out by the P.S. or one of the young men 
 present rather than she should remain neglected. At 
 one end of the ball room was a verandah looking sea- 
 wards, and this space was pretty well filled with a double 
 row of servant girls who had either accompanied their 
 " missises" or attached themselves on arrival, and who, 
 with their neat dresses and gay and jaunty handkerchiefs, 
 added to the picturesqueness of the scene. Every now 
 and then their eyes would sparkle and their grinning 
 teeth gleam, as they recognized Missie This or Missie 
 That when those ladies swept by ; and their criticisms, 
 expressed in under tones, were frequent and candid, so 
 that while Miss Julia was said to look "too sweet," and 
 Miss Tilda " really pretty," it was considered that Mrs. 
 So-and-so, who was reputed an exacting mistress, " wid 
 dem fedder on she head" would have been better at 
 home M fo' nuss she mudder, than throw she foot dat 
 fashion in gubnor ball dance." This Creole custom of 
 each lady guest having one or two females hangers on, 
 was by no means convenient, but it was of long standing, 
 
238 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 and had become a vested right. Long after the time of 
 which I am writing, the Governor at the period, ob- 
 jected to this fringe of unbidden attendants, and on the 
 occasion of a Birthday Ball, ordered the gallery to be 
 cleared of them. There were remonstrances and murmurs, 
 and even some scuffling, but the command was carried 
 out. Then the bandsmen began to mutiny. Clarionet 
 openly stated that if Mrs. Clarionet was to go, so should 
 he. Bombardon indignantly escorted his offended spouse 
 and daughter down the steps ; and the Drummer, who 
 was a loyal, but weak-minded, man, was seen with his 
 drum on his head, driven across the courtyard by Mrs. 
 Drummer at the point of her umbrella. To recall them 
 would have been feeble policy, and so His Excellency's 
 guests were forced to content themselves with the music 
 discoursed by the faithful first Cornet, and a bachelor 
 and unattached Bassoon. 
 
 I wonder if any one plays now-a-days the music to 
 which we danced that night some thirty-five years ago ! 
 Does any one remember the " Drum" and " Sultan" 
 polkas called into existence, if I recollect rightly, by the 
 Crimean war, and the " Agnes Sorel" and " Les Rats" 
 quadrilles ? Perhaps they may yet be found in some old 
 musty collection of music, to turn over which is but sad 
 work, recalling dear ones whose deft fingers have long 
 been still, and whose melodious lips are silent for ever. 
 Hearing these old pieces once more, one would almost 
 expect to see them danced bv spectres, — the ghosts of 
 many of those gay guests of long ago. 
 
 I may record that throughout the evening liquid re- 
 freshments, sherry negus, claret cup, lemonade, tea, and 
 
My First "Birthday Ball." 239 
 
 coffee, were handed round. There was no " bar" ; and 
 as for Sodas and B., the Governor would have considered 
 anyone requiring anything of the kind as in want of 
 medical aid. We had tried punch, but as was often the 
 case then, and is now, good old rum was not to be got, 
 and the substitute was a failure, so much so, that old 
 Marshall, who, on being denied brandy, had recourse to 
 the mixture, was heard to indulge in language of the 
 most disrespe&ful and insubordinate kind. Even in 
 '* Old Barataria" people could not go on dancing for 
 ever, and as twelve o'clock came, and the " Roast Beef" 
 was thundered out from the piano, the constitution of 
 which instrument was considered to have given way from 
 that evening, people hailed supper as a welcome break 
 in the festivities. 
 
 Of course the guests went two and two, but not in any 
 promiscuous haphazard way. Noah was not more careful 
 in marshalling his guests into the ark than were we in 
 seeing that people of like degree were linked together, 
 and walked together in their places when entering the 
 supper room. The table was a wonderful sight. In 
 Cannibaland, where native chiefs were often regaled, be- 
 sides sturdy colonists with appetites sharpened by some 
 months roughing it in the bush, big feeds were the order 
 of the day, and my dear Governor, who never quite 
 realized the fa& that West Indians were very different 
 from the colonists of the island in the Pacific, provided 
 as he used to do. The dishes were embedded in flowers 
 and the joints were huge and various. Every kind of 
 poultry was represented. Of pastry and sweets the ex- 
 amples were innumerable, and if our guests had been 
 
240 Wfcsf Indian Yarns. 
 
 four times their number there would have been far too 
 much. As it was, the inmates of the Poor House, and a 
 crowd of dependants on Government House largesse, 
 feasted for days after on the overplus. 
 
 We had no ice in those days, and consequently were 
 free from those agonizing periods of suspense that nowa- 
 days, if the ship is overdue, drives thirsty lieges half 
 crazy. We knew not the feeling that leads men to clasp 
 each other's hands, and with parched lip and tearful 
 eye, point their trembling fingers to the welcome, long- 
 delayed signal, as castaways greet a sail on the horizon. 
 We were spared all this. Moderate in our desires, we 
 cooled our drinks in porous goblets or in bottles swathed 
 in constantly moistened cloths, on window sills, or where 
 a draught of air could fan them. With the humble or 
 careless of appearance, the arms of discarded merino 
 vests were used, but more often the envelope, daintily 
 done in crochet, was an appropriate present from a clever 
 damsel to a favoured swain. 
 
 No need to recount the speeches. The Queen was 
 received as loyally as in any other part of Her dominions. 
 And though planters were still smarting from the legisla- 
 tion of '46, which, as they contended, gave undue ad- 
 vantages to slave grown sugar, and though they had just 
 gone through an epidemic of yellow fever which had 
 thinned their numbers, and their labourers had been 
 sadly diminished by a visitation of cholera, they still were 
 brave and hopeful and true, and it was only one or two 
 extreme radicals who, attributing all these evils to mis- 
 government, hinted at better things under another flag ; 
 and so the usual three cheers rang out lustily as ever. 
 
My First "Birthday Ball." 241 
 
 And then they drank the health of the Governor and his 
 wife, who were chorally declared to be jolly good fellows; 
 and then followed the " Ladies" and a response from 
 some bashful bachelor, I think Mr. S., the embryo pianist, 
 and then more dancing till, — well in Barataria, clocks in 
 those days stopped at 2 a.m., and took no count of any- 
 thing after that. 
 
 At last, however, they went, those guests; ponies were 
 brought round, and ladies, carefully shawled by their 
 partners, some of whom must have been clumsy fellows 
 they took so long about it, were lifted into their saddles. 
 Some of the lissome girls of that evening still survive, 
 but now it would take a stronger arm than that of their 
 present historian to swing them on to their steeds. Then 
 there were hands shaken, and words whispered, and many a 
 lad and lass cantered away happily under the spreading 
 boughs of a giant acacia, and round the corner of a dell 
 filled with bamboos, and down the road chequered with 
 the moonlight that streamed through the branches of 
 overhanging trees, while the music of their voices mingled 
 with the clatter of hoofs. And older couples trudged 
 along on foot, with sometimes an ominous stumble, fol- 
 lowed by a word of caution from the wife, until one by 
 one the sounds died away, and the last guest faded from 
 sight, as the Governor and I looked from the verandah 
 across the garden, whence floated up the perfume of 
 many a sweet-scented plant, and down the richly tim- 
 bered ascent to the house, across the little town lying 
 asl eep, with its roofs glistening white in the moon's rays, 
 out to the broad sea flecked with silver light. 
 
 44 Well, thank God ! that's over," at length said His 
 Excellency, and his Secretary replied, Amen ! 
 
 2 H 
 
242 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 MUTUAL CONFIDENCE. 
 
 PEAKING of St. Sangaree meteorologically, and 
 with reference to its rainfall, one would say it 
 was a moist island, but the people thereof are, 
 or used to be, dry and arid. I remember being there 
 once on duty with a superior Governor when it was 
 arranged that there should be a \ev6e. Such a thing had 
 not been since St. Sangaree was a separate Government, 
 with a strong garrison and a large staff of officials, 
 Colonial and Imperial, but in our day the island had 
 been sadly shorn of its pomp and circumstances, and 
 there were only a quiet easy-going Lieut. Governor with 
 an anything but energetic legislature, a slender and not well 
 paid official surrounding, empty barracks, and ruined 
 fortifications, the guns of which had gone to the United 
 States as old iron. The building where the local parlia- 
 ment met and sundry officials were located was a rather 
 pretentious building and evidently had been eretted in 
 the more prosperous days of St. Sangaree. It was here 
 the important ceremony was to take place. A strong — 
 numerically strong — body of police mounted guard. Their 
 caps were of a bygone fashion, but it was explained that 
 these were not worn except on very high occasions, and 
 so had lasted a long while and were as good as ever. 
 Boots, from the discomfort expressed on the wearers' 
 faces, must also have been unfamiliar articles, and the 
 firelocks were curiosities, but the Inspector General wore 
 blue and silver and had slung to him a most uncontrollable 
 and noisy sabre. There was an A.D.C., a civilian, who 
 donned a blue frock coat with a rather mulberry coloured 
 
Mutual Confidence. 243 
 
 sash, quite eclipsing my evening dress. One of the principal 
 persons with whom certain preliminaries had to be settled, 
 was an official who, to meet the hard times, filled some 
 four offices at what in the old days was the salary of one of 
 them, His staff was not extensive and consisted of an 
 old man who made up the mails, conducted the corres- 
 pondence, answered questions, went messages, and a&ed 
 as a bailiff in addition to other duties. He was a quaint 
 old creature with round shoulders, on which hung a well- 
 worn coat of a bygone fashion, the cuffs of which almost 
 hid his long bony fingers. 
 
 I found my friend just entering his office. He was an 
 a&ive, handsome, young fellow, but as one glance could 
 tell, had a lot of the devil in him. 
 
 " Glad to see you, my dear Sir ! very glad. What can 
 I do for you, eh ? but here Mr. Winterbell, Mr. Winter- 
 bell !" 
 
 " Yes Sir," said his sub coming forward from a corner — 
 
 u Produce the brandy. We have no ice, but Mr. 
 Winterbell ! bring some cool water r 
 
 " Nothing for me, thank you," I protested, for it was 
 not later than 10.30. 
 
 My friend, however, would take no denial, and Mr. 
 Winterbell, with trembling hands, put two thick tumblers 
 on a table. 
 
 " Mr. Winterbell !" exclaimed Mr. Bingo, shaking his 
 head, and holding up the bottle, which was half full — 
 " You have betrayed my confidence Sir !" 
 
 "No Sir!" 
 
 " Yes ! Sir — let me explain," added Mr. Bingo, turn- 
 ing to me — " the contingency vote of this department is 
 
«44 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 employed, if not so intended, to provide two bottles of 
 brandy a week. One-third is for me, another for persons 
 like yourself coming on business and requiring refresh- 
 ment, the remaining third is for Mr. Winterbell. We 
 have barely commenced the week ; this is Tuesday — and 
 see — ah, Mr. Winterbell, even in apparent trifles like 
 these, honesty should be observed." 
 
 I persisted in my refusal to drink, and Mr. Bingo 
 mixed and swallowed a rather stiff glass. 
 
 I said what I had to say, and was about leaving when 
 he detained me. 
 
 " Excuse me, Mr. Beke, but I think it is my duty to 
 put you on your guard against Spiffkins, our Controller 
 of Customs. He wants, I know, to get at the Governor 
 to poison his mind against — well — myself and others who 
 won't stand his nonsense. The Lieutenant Governor, as 
 you know, is— in fa& he's led entirely by McKenzie, a 
 fellow I wouldn't — but you'll see for yourself. Adieu 
 for the present." 
 
 With some excuse 1 got away from my friend and was 
 going down the corridor, when I was beckoned to by Mr. 
 Spiffkins whom I had known in another island. 
 
 •' My dear Beke" said he, with outstretched hands, 
 " I am so glad to see you. Come in, how well you're 
 looking. Feel it hot ? I dare say, but stop a bit," — and 
 he disappeared behind the flap of a desk. 
 
 When he emerged he had in his hand a bottle. 
 
 " Look here ! This is real old St. Maria shrub, now 
 have some, do — with some cool water, eh ? you'll find it 
 capital. No ? really no ? Anyhow you'll know where to 
 find it, later on perhaps," and the bottle was replaced. 
 
Mutual Confidence. 245 
 
 " Now," said Spiffkins coming up to me and holding 
 my arm, " what I am going to say must be confidential — 
 sacred. I saw you go into Bingo's office. Now beware 
 of him, because — he's a snake in the grass — tries to 
 undermine me with the Lieutenant Governor, who, poor 
 fellow, is led by the nose by an infernal Scotchman, 
 McKenzie — you know what I mean— Ah ! that Bingo !" 
 and Mr. Spiffkins drew in his breath in the style of a 
 melo-dramatic villain, and shook his head as I left him. 
 
 I was about to descend the steps when the Hon'ble 
 Mr. McKenzie, an official of importance, detained me ; 
 might he have one word ? 
 
 H My dear Mr. Beke," said Mr. McKenzie shaking a 
 forefinger at me in an impressive way, " let this be in 
 confidence, but for God's sake don't let His Excellency 
 trust either of those men, Bingo and Spiffkins. There's 
 only one decent fellow here — that's Biggs, the Colonial 
 Secretary, but Bingo and Spiffkins, my dear Sir, one is a 
 rascal and the other" — McKenzie closed one eye and 
 raised his thumb to his lips with a twist of his little finger 
 — M awful Sir ! perfectly awful ! but that reminds me, you 
 must be thirsty. I've got some f Three Star' and— you 
 won't ? Ah ! I will — you don't know how this climate 
 takes it out of you. Well ! now don't forget what I have 
 told you about those two fellows. Au revoir ! twelve 
 o'clock's the hour." 
 
 The mention of Mr. Biggs reminded me that I must 
 see him, whom I found in his office where we discussed 
 some papers which had been referred to him. He was 
 a tall, thin, young looking man, with a demure air, and 
 
246 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 his neat white tie and black clothes, with a measured way 
 of talking, gave him quite a clerical air. 
 
 " I am glad of this opportunity, Mr. Beke," he said, 
 with downcast eyes and a. gentle voice, "of saying what 
 may appear uncharitable, and which it grieves me to say, 
 but duty compels me — and it is this : I pray you, keep 
 the Governor from the machinations of three men in this 
 community, in this building, I mean McKenzie, Bingo, 
 and Spiffkins. They are deceitful men. It is not for me 
 to say how their official duties are performed, but their 
 chief aim is to ruin me. God knows what I have done 
 to draw down their enmity, unless it be an humble attempt 
 to do my duty, but I live, if I may so say, in fear of my 
 life — my official life— of course I have not approached 
 the Lieutenant Governor on the question because — well I 
 must respeft his position, but those three men" — 
 
 " I think," I ventured to say, " you misjudge them." 
 
 " Ah no" — and Mr. Biggs stretched out his hand to a 
 glass of milk which stood on his table. 
 
 " You find that agree with you ?" I asked by way of 
 changing the conversation. 
 
 •• Yes — the doctors prescribe it. Can I offer you any- 
 thing ? I find the oleaginous particles of the milk apt to 
 disagree with me, and, under medical advice, I add 
 generally" and he dived into a cupboard — " a little cor- 
 rective stimulant. This" he added, holding out a bottle 
 " is old rum, and here is a glass and some cool water, let 
 me invite you to take some." 
 
 I refused — I would wait until the sun was over the 
 yard-arm. 
 
 " Then I will add my usual modicum," and he poured 
 
Mutual Confidence. 247 
 
 a good wine glassful into the milk and stirred it with a 
 paper knife as I rose to go. 
 
 " We shall meet at twelve shall we not ? Till then good 
 day," and he opened the door for me. 
 
 When twelve o'clock came, and the two Governors in 
 full uniform drove up, they were received with all proper 
 ceremony. It is true they came in a small basket carriage, 
 which was the only vehicle in the colony, and usually 
 carried the parson and his wife, but to ride was for some 
 reasons impra&icable. 
 
 Now this levee was to be a great fundion, and due 
 notice had been sent all over the island, but the St. 
 Sangaree people were not a very energetic set and rarely 
 came to the Town save on mail days, and I believe there 
 were difficulties—at all events the affair was attended 
 almost entirely by officials. The two Excellencies took 
 up their station in the Court House, the fittings of which 
 had been arranged to allow of those attending, to appear 
 at one door, pass before the Governors, and make their 
 exit into the passage beyond. The A.D.C. announced 
 the names which were duly repeated by me. The Chief 
 Justice and all the officials passsed in and out in a 
 straggling intermittent procession, McKenzie, Bingo, 
 Spiffkins and Biggs of course among them, and I was 
 bewildered to see these four gather together outside, 
 shake hands, laugh and talk and slap each other on the 
 back as if they were the best friends, and I was wondering 
 whether there had been a combination to hoax poor me, 
 or if they were dissembling; when the Aide-de-camp 
 called out " Mr. Webbels." 
 We had exhausted the official lists, no non-official had 
 
248 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 appeared, and it was becoming necessary to decide 
 whether it was not time for the curtain to be rung 
 down, and the performance closed, when Mr. Webbels 
 appeared. He was a very old man, much bent 
 and feeble, supporting himself with a stick as he 
 tottered from the door with a queer half-dazed look, 
 turning his eyes from the Aide-de-camp to me, and then 
 to the Governors. There was something grotesque and 
 something very touching in this old man's appearance ; a 
 last link between the good old days of St. Sangaree and 
 the present time. Suddenly he stopped and bowed, and 
 then, lifting up both hands, he said, in a thin piping 
 voice, " Bless me ! haven't seen anything like it since 
 '13 ;" and then he turned and tottered out at the door by 
 which he had entered. 
 
 And when he had gone we went too. I have not heard 
 ot any levies in St. Sangaree since that one. 
 
 TREASURE TROVE AND NOT TROVE. 
 
 THERE are many well founded traditions of 
 buried treasure in the West India Islands. 
 The Buccaneers are supposed to have con- 
 cealed much of their plunder which they never returned 
 to recover. During the wars with France, and in those 
 islands in which contests with the native Caribs were 
 frequent, much valuable property was hastily hidden, 
 and the places of deposit known only to a few with whom 
 the secret died. In some of the islands, almost every 
 estate shews traces where a search for money has 
 
Treasure Trove and not Trove. 349 
 
 been made. In one island, where the French were after 
 a short resistance driven by the English never to regain 
 possession, it is said that the French authorities buried a 
 large amount of money (some thousands of pounds) 
 before they took to their ships ; believing that they would 
 soon return. The secret was apparently confided to few, 
 but my informant, then an official of the colony, told me 
 that he had been assured by an old coloured French- 
 man that the money still lay undisturbed under the 
 foundation of what had been, if I recoiled rightly, a guard 
 house, but which then formed part of a Hospital. The 
 expense of the search, involving as it would, the des- 
 truction of some buildings, and the fear of being ridiculed 
 if the search proved fruitless, deterred the authorities from 
 making the experiment. 
 
 There is no doubt, however, that in some of the French 
 colonies, records and plans exist shewing where treasure 
 has been hidden in the islands now possessed by the 
 English. The mystery is, why these clues should not 
 have been fully followed up long ago, and how it is that 
 only after many years have elapsed, people come and 
 search apparently with success for hidden hoards. It 
 now and then happens that a small vessel is seen to hover 
 off the coast of one of these islands ; two or three 
 strangers land under some pretext, and after a day or so, the 
 vessel leaves, Then some labourer reports having found 
 a deep and recently dug hole in his provision grounds, 
 around the brink of which splinters of decayed wood, 
 flakes of iron rust, or pieces of broken jars, shew that 
 some thing had been dug up and removed. 
 
 One manager 1 knew, who suddenly became possessed 
 
 2 1 
 
* 50 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 of means with which he bought an estate, was supposed 
 to have some such treasure trove which, buried in the 
 face of a cliff, was disclosed by a land slip. But one 
 rarely hears of an authenticated case of any such dis- 
 covery by a resident. 
 
 Various are the marks which are said to guide the des- 
 cendants of the French fugitives who made the cdche to 
 the spot where the treasure lies. Lines drawn so many 
 paces from the apex of a triangle formed by three trees, 
 or from a particular rock, are the most common. 
 
 One story tells of a stranger ferreting out an old 
 negress, once the slave of former French proprietors, and 
 asking to be shewn where the youngest child of her 
 mistress had been buried. She shewed the spot ; a stable 
 had been built over it, but the stranger and his com- 
 panion coming at night, dug up a portion of the pave- 
 ment, took up a coffin-like box and carried off its con- 
 tents, which were not bones but coin. 
 
 One common legend is that of a proprietor, before 
 fleeing the country, employing a slave to bury the money 
 he could not take with him, and then in order to keep the 
 secret safe, murdering the slave ; — but being himself 
 taken and killed, all trace of where his wealth lies hidden 
 has been lost. The result is that negroes go and burrow 
 in the ground until the supposed place of deposit has 
 become like a rabbit warren. Of course searchers are 
 generally unsuccessful. 
 
 " Massa" once said an old negro lady to me " Wha* de 
 good for dig for money ? The deeper you does dig the 
 furder de money sink." 
 
 The spot most oiten " prospered" is the site of the 
 
Treasure Trove and not Trove. 251 
 
 mansion of some former proprietor. The house and 
 garden have long since disappeared ; a few old fruit trees 
 and some old broken tiles are the only traces left ; while 
 of the family itself the only memorials are a field or two 
 still called after them, or perhaps some old negro in 
 whose name that of his former owner still survives. It is 
 melancholy to note how the history of these former 
 colonists is lost to us. Unfortunately, no records, letters 
 or journals exist, from which one can learn any thing 
 respe&ing the manner of the daily life of these old 
 colonists, and one would gladly learn more of them. 
 
 It is difficult to understand how their wealth could 
 have been acquired from their small holdings of 50 or 60 
 acres, and yet people must have lived in great comfort, 
 if not in luxury, in those days. One has often heard of 
 three or four balls attended only by white people taking 
 place on the same night in *' town," — which now consists 
 of a church, a grog shop, a small provision store, and a 
 few tumble down shanties. Of course all is now changed. 
 As the French settlers have disappeared from the majority 
 of the islands so the English and Scottish families who 
 succeeded them have died out or sought occupation else- 
 where. Field has been laid to field, and the homesteads 
 where the former gentry of the land kept open house are 
 either levelled to the ground or are inhabited by a far 
 different class; and the money which is made in a 
 colony, as a rule is no longer spent in it, nor is it buried 
 except in the sense of being sunk occasionally in un- 
 fortunate operations on estates. 
 
252 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 VOX POPULI. 
 
 SOME years ago the legislature of each West India 
 island (as mentioned in another yarn) was 
 modelled on that of the Mother Country. Queen, 
 Lords and Commons, had their counterparts in Governor, 
 Legislative Council, Legislative Assembly, the latter of 
 course elected ; but elections as a rule were tame, spirit- 
 less affairs. Of the few scores of electors registered, not 
 a quarter ever came to vote unless there were some ex- 
 ceptional circumstances which aroused a transient in- 
 terest. 
 
 Once upon a time, old Vernon, the returning officer in 
 St. Maria, had an election at his own house where he had 
 hospitably provided a sumptuous luncheon. The parish 
 returned two members and the electors numbered under 
 20, but on the occasion referred to, only one of the two 
 candidates put in an appearance, Dalziel, the owner of a 
 small estate, and with this exception no electors were 
 visible. I, who was a stranger on a visit, had no vote. 
 After waiting a long while, we breakfasted, and the hour 
 of nomination found us over cigars and sangaree. At 
 length it dawned on Vernon that something must be 
 done, so we put pens, ink and paper on a small table in 
 the gallery, and the Governor's warrant was read ; then 
 the returning officer happily bethought him of a man 
 who was shingling the stable and he was brought before 
 us. 
 
 " Hepburn I" 
 
 " Yes, Marshal !" 
 
 " We have to elect two members to serve in the As- 
 
An Official Dilemma. 253 
 
 sembly for St. Maria's Parish. You propose any one? 
 You've got a vote I know." 
 
 " Yes, massa, me got vote, but me don't know any 
 member." 
 
 " Well, you know Mr. McStiver, the attorney for Belle 
 Source." 
 
 " Yes, me massa, ob coorse, me know massa McTivah." 
 
 " Will you just say I propose Mr. McStiver." 
 
 " Yes sari, I propose Massa McTivar." 
 
 "And" said the considerate Dalziel, "I second the 
 nomination of my friend McStiver ; and I propose myself 
 as the other member." 
 
 " Hepburn ! you second that," 
 
 "Well, me Massa, you see dis buckra last time me 
 wuk for him he cut my money too bad and me don't 
 tink " 
 
 " Ah ! shut up ! have a drink " 
 
 " Tank'ee Marshal, well me second dat." 
 
 " And I declare" added the returning officer, " that in 
 the absence of any opposition, Messrs. Edward McStiver 
 and Roderick Dalziel are duly returned to serve as 
 members of the Honourable House )f Assembly of this 
 colony." 
 
 AN OFFICIAL DILEMMA. 
 
 IN my time, thirty years ago, the gaol at Conquintay 
 was not an attractive building. Its architectural 
 beauties were nil. Whatever yearnings for aesthetic 
 design the colonial authorities might have possessed, they 
 resisted- the temptation, so far as their prison was con- 
 
254 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 cerned, and thus the buildings with its four walls might 
 be termed " bald." I once said as much to a worthy- 
 Executive Councillor whose ear failed to appreciate the 
 value of an aspirate, and he, being facetious, retorted that 
 I could not say the situation of the place was not " hairy." 
 Of course I laughed ; when councillors condescend to a 
 joke, one ought always to look appreciative and amused. 
 
 The gaol had, probably still has, four walls, lofty, and 
 topped with the regulation broken bottles, of which Con- 
 quintay could always furnish a constant supply; and 
 being perched on an eminence on which nothing grew 
 save some short grass, it was a prominent objeft, a land- 
 mark to mariners, and a warning to the evil-disposed of 
 the town, — which was a collection of houses huddled 
 together on the beach at the foot of the hill. 
 
 It was a bare uncomfortable hill ; in dry weather the 
 sun beat on it and browned it ; the heat flickered above 
 it and around the white-washed prison walls ; and the 
 half-starved goats that browsed there seemed glad to 
 shrink away to any spot of shade. In the rainy season 
 when it was green and pleasant with the springing grass, 
 its surface was slippery and treacherous, while the path- 
 ways that scarred its front became small rivulets. 
 
 There was in the quadrangle of the gaol, a cocoanut 
 palm that raised its leafy head above the enclosure, and 
 when the winds blew, its pendant fronds would wave and 
 toss as if it were some imprisoned creature striving to 
 be free. When the air was still and heavy and hot, they 
 drooped and hung as if condemned to death and des- 
 pairing of all hope. 
 
 That tree had a history affording rebuke to all men 
 
An Official Dilemma. 255 
 
 who think that colonial officials are hasty, heedless, and 
 given to decide grave questions of state without con- 
 sideration and consultation. As told to me, that history 
 runs somewhat thus : 
 
 Of all the soldiers of the detachment quartered at Con- 
 quintay, Bob Johnson, a tall black man from Barbados, 
 was the boldest and the bravest. He was smart and 
 steady, an example to all young recruits who, seduced by 
 the eloquence of a sergeant and attra&ed by a wide- 
 breeched Zouave uniform, had forsaken hoe or fishing 
 line to follow the drum. Bob was also a good servant, 
 an excellent cook, and had a " lucky hand" with a horse, 
 so that he was somewhat of a favourite. But alas ! this 
 paragon had one besetting sin ; he was, not to put too fine 
 a point upon it, a thief. He practised chiefly on a limited 
 scale, picking up unconsidered trifles and evading dete&ion 
 by his skill, or escaping punishment through his other- 
 wise good chara&er. One day however Bob operated to 
 a serious extent. A store in the town was broken into 
 one evening when he was on leave, and a large sum 
 abstra&ed. The evidence of an accomplice and other 
 circumstances sufficed to convift Johnson and he was 
 sentenced to imprisonment. 
 
 It was a serious affair and a source of regret to the 
 corps. Johnson was missed terribly but "fiat justitia 
 &&" and there was nothing for it but that Bob should 
 serve out his time in an unbecoming uniform, and in the 
 performance of uncongenial and ignominious duties, and 
 so time stole on until the day arrived when the detach- 
 ment was to be relieved* 
 
 It was never clearly ascertained whether the authorities 
 
256 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 yielded to the request of his officers to allow Johnson to 
 accompany the outgoing garrison, or whether they were 
 moved by the consideration that the cost of Johnson's 
 prolonged stay in gaol would disturb that minute and 
 exact adjustment of the Colonial finances upon which the 
 prosperity of Conquintay depended ; but certain it is, 
 that it was arranged that Johnson should be liberated on 
 the understanding that he left the colony, and the in- 
 habitants be thereby enabled to " thank God that they 
 were rid of a villain." 
 
 This plan somehow reached Bob's ears and displeased 
 him greatly ; perhaps because it interfered with his touch- 
 ing the fruits of the robbery which had never turned up 
 and were supposed to have been concealed by him. On 
 the morning that H.M.S. " Trooper" steamed into Con- 
 quintay, an order under the Governor's hand and seal for 
 the prisoner's release was delivered to the jailor, who at 
 once proceeded to communicate its contents to the person 
 chiefly concerned; but he was nowhere to be found, 
 until a group of grinning prisoners pointed him out, com- 
 fortably perched on the top branches of the cocoa palm. 
 
 The jailer ordered him down, but the prisoner only 
 grinned ; then he tried to coax him to descend, but 
 equally without effect. The State document was read 
 out or rather bawled out to him, but Bob only shook his 
 head ; and when his guardian lost temper and broke out 
 into volleys of oaths and awful threats, the audacious 
 fellow laughed to such an extent that he nearly lost his 
 hold on the tree. 
 
 The only course left open to the jailer was to com- 
 municate these circumstances to the Colonial Secretary, 
 
An Official Dilemma. 257 
 
 and explain his inability to comply with the Governor's 
 mandate ; and this was done without delay. 
 
 When the letter reached the Colonial Secretary, he 
 placed a minute on it to the effed that it was " embarrass- 
 ing and unusual" and that he "presumed the jailor must 
 compel the prisoner to quit the cocoanut palm," and 
 sent it on to the Governor who wrote below it another 
 minute " very much so, clearly" and adding his initials, 
 sent it back to the Colonial Secretary. The document 
 was then forwarded to the jailer, with a peremptory 
 minute that Mr. Holdfast must (underlined) get the 
 prisoner down. The jailer on receiving it, scratched his 
 head and betaking himself to the foot of Johnson's retreat, 
 renewed his orders, prayers, threats, and curses in due 
 rotation, but his prisoner was as the deafest of adders, 
 and so poor Mr. Holdfast had to contribute his minute, 
 and say that with all he could do ; the prisoner would not 
 obey. 
 
 The Colonial Secretary who was a man of great re- 
 sources, read it with a frown that changed into a smile, 
 as an excellent expedient occurred to him, and he wrote 
 to the Governor to suggest that the fire engine of the 
 gaol might be made to play on the disobedient Johnson, 
 until he either came or was brought down oif the tree. 
 The Governor however, when he perused this proposition, 
 rather chafed at his subordinate writing about fire engines 
 which clearly did not belong to his department, and so 
 he wrote that it would be advisable to consult the Colo- 
 nial Engineer, — firstly, as to whether the engine could 
 send a jet to the height of the tree : secondly, whether the 
 force of such jet could be sufficient to dislodge Johnson ; 
 
 2 K 
 
258 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 thirdly, as to the risk of depriving the gaol of water which 
 would be necessary in case of fire. The Colonial Secre- 
 tary read this with a shrug of his shoulders and wrote 
 " Referred to Colonial Engineer for immediate report" on 
 the letter which was speedily taken to that officer. The 
 Engineer, who was a portly ex-Sergeant Major of Ar- 
 tillery, went up to the gaol followed by a negro boy laden 
 with his instruments, and spent some considerable time 
 in ascertaining what (perhaps from military associations) 
 he called the Halt-itude of the tree, the cubic contents of 
 the cistern, the bore of the engine's discharge pipe, with 
 the velocity and volume of the jet, and then toddled 
 down the hill back to his office, where he embodied the 
 results in a minute (too long for insertion here) and 
 added his opinion that in the present state of the hose, it 
 would not be possible to throw water to such a height. 
 The Colonial Secretary was half wild at the delay, and at 
 the inutility of his suggestion, but on the principle of 
 " least said soonest mended," he sent up the correspon- 
 dence with a request for further instructions, to the 
 Governor. 
 
 Now His Excellency was but mortal, and the envelope 
 which was of a portentous size was handed to him while 
 at luncheon with some naval and military officers, who, 
 as the task of transferring the troops was all but con- 
 cluded, had then some leisure. His Excellency read the 
 Engineer's minute, and in a moment of haste scribbled 
 below it "Damn the prisoner Johnson. Cut him down ;" 
 adding " of course, I mean the tree." 
 
 The Colonial Secretary was absent when this minute 
 reached his office, and his head clerk, who wore spe&acles 
 
An Official Dilemma. 259 
 
 and was a virtuous and proper young person, was hor- 
 rified at this ebullition of temper on the part of Her 
 Majesty's representative. Still he felt that what he con- 
 ceived to be an order, rather than an objurgation, should 
 be obeyed, and was considering who was the proper 
 officer to anathematize Johnson, when his immediate 
 Chief returned. Another minute was here added convey- 
 ing a second enquiry of the Engineer as to whether there 
 would be any risk to the buildings incurred by cutting 
 down the tree. The Engineer, who was humane, observed 
 that there would be no danger of damaging the gaol ; but 
 he added " how about injuring the prisoner ?" 
 
 Thus it happened that the Colonial Surgeon was re- 
 ferred to, but he was out of town, and the Attorney 
 General was in the meanwhile appealed to as to the legal 
 liability of the Authorities if harm was done to the prisoner. 
 When his opinion, which was an elaborate and explanatory 
 one and touched incidentally on several points besides 
 that in question, arrived, it was late iu the day ; and 
 H.M.S. "Trooper" had to leave at a certain hour on 
 account of tides and currents. The upshot was that 
 Johnson did not embark, but had the pleasure of watch- 
 ing from his elevated post the ship go safely round the 
 N.E. corner of Conquintay bay, before he slid down the 
 tree and returned to his cell. Bob served out his term 
 and then left for his native island where some years ago 
 he was still alive and in easy circumstances. For years, 
 however, any reference to him or that cocoa palm, in the 
 official circle of Conquintay, was not considered to be in 
 good taste. 
 
260 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 HARD SKULL. 
 
 THE thickness of a negro's skull is proverbial, 
 and in former times was, we fear, often made 
 a subjeft of experiment. There was once a 
 merchant who used to bet that one of his porters would 
 run his head through a cheese, and this feat was fre- 
 quently performed to the amusement of a delighted 
 audience of loafers/ On one occasion, after the " san- 
 garee" had been passed round rather freely, the owner of 
 the hard-headed porter had a grindstone wrapped up in 
 canvas so as to imitate a " Double Gloster," and Mercury 
 was desired to repeat the feat. The grindstone was set 
 up on edge and the poor fellow sent his head with a 
 bang at its centre ; with a howl he fell back amid the 
 laughter of the unfeeling fellows around. But he raised 
 himself, remarking " Dat cheese well hard, 'spose he 
 come last year ; I think tho' he been bruck." And on 
 removing the covering the stone was indeed found to be 
 ** bruck" or cracked through. 
 
 A few years ago at a county jail in England, a negro 
 sailor who was undergoing imprisonment there, attempted 
 to commit suicide by getting over the balusters at the 
 top of the storey and throwing himself down the " well" 
 of the staircase, a very considerable height. He was 
 picked up senseless, but, strange to say, recovered in a 
 few minutes and did not appear to have received any 
 injury. Some weeks after, however, he effected his 
 objed by "butting" his head once against a wall with 
 comparative little force, but the injury was fatal. 
 
 The " Black Caribs" of St. Vincent, who are the des- 
 
A Fishy Customer. 261 
 
 cendants of Carib and African ancestors, used to flatten 
 the heads of their infants by means of a board strapped 
 across the forehead to distinguish them from the African 
 slaves imported as labourers, these lords of the soil 
 having an aversion to work. But this pra&ice of dis- 
 torting the shape of the skull exists, or existed, among 
 other Indian races. 
 
 A FISHY CUSTOMER. 
 
 IN Barataria the chief town is named, as any one can 
 see on a map ; — well — as it is to be so easily seen, 
 I need not name it. In it, however, the principal 
 store was kept by a firm styling themselves Mango and 
 Co., but the original Mango had died out years before, 
 and in his stead reigned Ratoon and Stump when I was 
 stationed there. Ratoon had made money and had grown 
 rather weary of the routine of business in spite of the 
 variety presented by an establishment, where, on one side, 
 bonnets, boots and dry goods were to be obtained, while 
 at the opposite counter one could buy a ham, and a 
 frying pan in which to cook it, to say nothing of there 
 being a snug compartment where liquids of various 
 strengths and qualities could be got. Ratoon had bought 
 a sugar estate up the coast, and took pleasure apparently 
 in watching how steadily he lost money by it, but it 
 qualified him for a seat in Council. Mrs. Ratoon liked 
 the prefix of Honourable to her spouse's name, and the 
 precedence it gave herself at Government House, where 
 His Excellency would take her down to dinner or supper 
 
262 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 before less distinguished ladies whose dresses she used 
 once upon a time to make, — for every one in Barataria 
 remembered Rosa Gusset when she was a milliner. Mr. 
 and Mrs. Ratoon therefore, were often absent from their 
 Town mansion, which was the upper part of the premises 
 where the business was carried on, and on such occasions 
 Stump was the presiding genius of the mercantile es- 
 tablishment. 
 
 One day when I came into town, and was walking 
 down the street that opened on the bay, I saw Stump 
 seated outside his store on a barrel, kicking his heels in 
 a desultory tattoo against its sides, and smoking a cigar 
 of doubtful origin, as Stump's tobacco ever was. Stump 
 I may explain, was a sun burnt, dried up old West Indian 
 of 45, considered as the main stay of the business, and 
 as good natured a fellow as one could wish to meet ; and 
 as I came up to him, he put out his hand and saluted 
 me. 
 
 " Just come in V 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Had any rain your way ?" 
 
 " An inch and two-fifteenths." We were minute ob- 
 servers of rainfall in Barataria. 
 
 " When are you going out ?" 
 
 " To-morrow — How's business ?" 
 
 " Business be " 
 
 " Slack V 
 
 " Oh no — not at all slack" — and he grinned \ sarcastic/ 
 " I'll tell you to-day's transactions and you will see. Take 
 that chair, Have a weed ?" 
 
 I declined the weed — for reasons. 
 
A Fishy Customer. 263 
 
 " Well, you know Ginger — up at the Garrison — Com- 
 missariat, Control 0" something so ; — well by Jove he's a 
 fellow to trade." 
 
 " Sharp ?" I enquired. 
 
 " Sharp ! rather ; to-day he came down on a flea- 
 bitten pony he got out of a cargo from Tortola for $60, and 
 rode up to the door here, as if he'd found a gold mine — 
 * Ah !' says he ' Mr. Stump how do you do ?' and he 
 leant over his brute's neck and squeezed my hands as if 
 I had been his brother. * Do you know I want some good 
 saltfish — really good you know — about six pounds. 
 Any nice fish newiy opened — eh ?' 
 
 " Well, I'm not proud, but we don't sell saltfish by 
 retail, and so I told him." 
 
 " * Ah well ! would you mind sending one of your lads 
 to get some— Thar k you !' 
 
 * O course I had to call Peter and send him to the 
 Portuguese shop round the corner, while Ginger kept 
 smiling away and jabbering about his pony and the 
 weather and Lord knows what." 
 
 " Presently Peter appeared with a whole fish. Ginger 
 called him and inspe&ed the purchase." 
 
 " * What does it weigh my lad' he asked with a bland 
 voice like a sucking Curate." 
 
 " * A quarter, ten dog, and t'ree stampee' said Peter.' " 
 
 " ' Which in English, Mr. Stump, means — ?' " 
 
 " One and nine pence, said I — " 
 
 " ' Ah ! Yes, of course, but these barbaric terms' — and 
 he began fumbling in all his pockets." 
 
 " ' Dear me, how ludicrous— do you know I've a&ually 
 come out without any money — positively penniless — may 
 
264 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 I ask you my dear Mr. Stump to advance me this absurd 
 sum of one quarter ten ; — ah Peter ! you're a sad wag' ; 
 and he began to aim a cut of his whip at Peter who 
 grinned like a devil." 
 
 " Certainly, said I, with a growl." 
 
 " * Thanks ! and may I ask our friend Peter to wrap it 
 up in a sheet or two — we'll say two — of thick brown 
 paper, for I must carry it myself, and the smell is not 
 Eau de Cologne — is it? Thanks — ah! but Peter!' he 
 went on as the boy handed him the parcel—-' you forgot 
 the string : just tie a bit here and then lash it to my 
 saddle — thanks — and my dear Mr. Stump, you won't 
 mind putting the quarter and ten — dear ! dear ! what a 
 coinage ! — to my account — thanks — Good morning.' " 
 
 " Good morning, I replied, in a rage at the fellow's 
 coolness." 
 
 " Presently he came trotting back, — and pulled up at 
 the door." 
 
 " ' Mr. Stump !— Mr. Stump !' he called out as I tried 
 to get away — 'Ah ! Peter ! just hold Florizel' ; for so he 
 called his ugly brute, and off he slipped, and came into 
 the store." 
 
 " J Mr. Stump — I've just remembered — I want to make 
 some purchases for Mrs. Ginger. It's her birthday to- 
 morrow.' " 
 
 " Well Mr. Ginger, I replied — I am very glad to supply 
 you, of course, but your account is a little higher — " 
 
 '* ' Ah ! of course, I know that — you've been very civil 
 about it, Mr. Stump — very civil — and Mrs. Ginger and I 
 appreciate your kindness, and we intend to settle before 
 many days ; but this is a cash transaction.' " 
 
A Fishy Customer. 265 
 
 " That makes a difference ! I observed — not that I 
 believed the fellow." 
 
 " * Of course it does — all the difference — Well, I want 
 to make Mrs. Ginger a present — some thing not very ex- 
 pensive yet something useful — I have a cheque for $120 
 — don't think I am extravagant, I don't mean to spend 
 all in that way. Be just before you are generous, eh ? 
 — But it would be a convenience if you'll not pay it in 
 
 until after the 1st pay-day you know, — only 12 days 
 
 off.' 
 
 " Oh well, said I, I don't mind — I presume it will be 
 all right then." 
 
 " 'My dear Sir ? said Ginger, in a half injured tone, of 
 course it will, — and if there are a few dollars over, your 
 cashier could let me have them eh ? — Yes ! ah, will you 
 just tell him — thanks.' 
 
 " I was glad to get rid of him, and did as he requested, 
 and then off he went asking for and inspecting no end of 
 things— presently he took his leave, and I pretended to 
 be busy with a customer to escape his ceaseless jabber." 
 
 " Well Sir — just now I went to my cashier and what 
 do you think Ginger had done ? — Blessed if he hadn't 
 bought a dozen handkerchiefs at $2.40 and got the 
 balance of the cheque in cash. So that's a sort of forced 
 loan of $118. Now that's the business I've been doing 
 to-day. Of course I can't present the cheque and — " 
 and Mr. Stump kicked his barrel savagely. 
 
 " What a sell," I remarked sympathisingly. 
 
 " Sell ! — if ever that — but there ! come in and have a 
 a drink." 
 
 Some days after, I met Mr. Ginger who confided to 
 
 2 L 
 
266 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 me that the Barataria shopkeepers were a lot of sharks 
 and swindlers. 
 
 A STRANGE RIDE. 
 
 ONE day in our club old Sir Grey Charger, Bart, 
 K.C.B., &c, who was always fond of talking of 
 his West Indian experiences, and I were dining 
 together. Putting down his glass of Chateau la Rose, he 
 said " You've been in St. Fiddles where I was with the 
 old ioist. Do you recoiled old Sourwash and his two 
 girls ? — Of course not," he added after a moment's pause, 
 " I'm thinking of 40 years ago ; — but I'll tell you a yarn 
 about them." 
 
 Sourwash — Simon Sourwash of Mt. Jupiter, in the 
 Island of St. Fiddles, Esquire, had the reputation of 
 being a very hospitable man, and so he was in a way. 
 His invitations were frequent and sincerely meant, and 
 one's three days' leave from garrison duty was generally 
 spent with the old gentleman pleasantly enough. His 
 daughters, Rosa and Rachel, were clever and cheery if 
 not in their premiere jeunesse, nor very good looking, 
 and we usually got up a little music and a dance on these 
 occasions. On one point, old Simon was very particular, 
 he never permitted a guest to bring his groom. He 
 might as well said he, bring his own oats, and there were 
 his own people to attend to the beasts. I did not quite 
 like this arrangement, for on three or four occasions that 
 I had been out to Mt. Jupiter, I fancied my horses did 
 not seem improved by the journey and stay there, and 
 and yet they were well fed and groomed ; the stables were 
 
A Strange Ride. 267 
 
 comfortable, and Sourwash always invited me to see the 
 horses put up at sun-down. There were some six stalls 
 in one building reserved for the riding horses, and in 
 another long narrow stable or shed, the animals which 
 Sourwash used on the estate's work, were kept. The 
 mill was worked by cattle or horses, as is usual where 
 water power is not obtainable, and where the position of 
 the works precludes the use of a windmill. The crop, at 
 Mt. Jupiter, was not a very large one, but Sourwash 
 owned two or three estates adjacent and altogether he 
 made perhaps 500 hogsheads. The works were in a 
 valley not far from the dwelling house so that we could 
 hear the creaking of the canes, and the lash of the whip 
 as it fell on the backs of the unfortunate animals, which, 
 harnessed to the long sweeps, went their weary round. 
 
 It was, as I have said, pleasant enough quarters. Of 
 course I got chaffed about Rosa, who was the better 
 looking of the two Sourwash girls, but I only grinned, for 
 as yet I felt heart whole, and as the prospects of my suc- 
 ceeding to my father's estate was a near one, a share of 
 Mt. Jupiter and a wife ten years older than myself, were 
 no great temptation. 
 
 I soon found, however, that the Mt. Jupiter family were 
 determined not to allow a baronetcy and a few thousands 
 a year to escape them without a struggle, and the atten- 
 tions of the old planter and his two daughters increased. 
 I was inveigled into long rides up the mountain to see 
 " such lovely views," and on these occasions I was left 
 alone with one sister while the other lagged behind, until 
 she too would take her turn. I was equally civil to each, 
 and endeavoured to escape being betrayed into any ex- 
 
268 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 pression which might be construed into an avowal of 
 affe&ion, and to tell the truth I rather enjoyed the fun ; 
 it pleased them and it didn't hurt me. One day we had 
 been on an excursion, Rosa, Rachel and I. We started 
 early on mule back with a boy carrying a basket with the 
 commissariat, and had gone right away up to the head of 
 the Carriacou river. I need not describe the sgenery — 
 we had a long ride up and down hill sides covered with 
 canes in various stages of cultivation, the road passing 
 three or four times under a confounded coulisse rope 
 down which the cane bundles flew to the mill in the 
 valley below, with a screech and a grunt, — no pleasant 
 thing when you're on a skittish horse with a clear fall of 
 80 feet on one side of you ; then a scrambling slippery 
 climb thro' the labourers* provision grounds, past tall 
 plantains and large tannias with diamond-like rain drops 
 on their richly coloured leaves, or yams twisting round 
 poles and reminding one of the Rhineland vines. Then 
 would come a difficult bit along a narrow broken path, 
 cut out in a groove by the constant tramp of the people, 
 and only guarded from the edge of the steep precipice at 
 the foot of which the river tumbled and roared, by a belt 
 of tall bamboos with shafts as of polished glass, and huge 
 tufts of feathery foliage. 
 
 " A couple of hours of this work brought us to the 
 source of the river, a small stream falling from a mossy 
 nest in a cloven rock into a basin below. 
 
 Well, the lunch was good, and my two companions 
 had famous appetites. The champagne — old Sourwash 
 knew exa&ly what was good — was deliciously cool, and 
 
 so with the bubbling brook and song of birds and the 
 
A Strange Ride. 269 
 
 prattle of the two damsels — they were at least 28 and 
 3c — time went smoothly. Presently Rachael went to a 
 boulder within sight, if out of hearing, on pretence of 
 sketching, and Rosa was left with me. 
 
 " Captain Charger," said she suddenly, (they always 
 called me Captain, tho' I was only a Sub,) " I'm going 
 to scold you," and she looked up into my eyes. 
 
 " My dear Miss Rosa," said I, " what for ?" 
 
 " Well, it's about poor Rachel — I don't want to betray 
 her — but you must have seen how — how — " 
 
 " How what ?" 
 
 " How she loves you, there ! I don't care — you know 
 she loves you — and you if I am not mistaken, you — " 
 
 But here her voice faltered and as she bent her head a 
 pearly tear dropped on to a morsel of chicken salad she 
 was playing with at the end of her fork. 
 
 " My dear Miss Rosa" I began — but for the life of me 
 I did not know what more to say — " my dear Rosa." 
 
 " Ah" said she dropping the fork with the salad and 
 catching hold of my hand, " dont — I beg you, dont call 
 me that. I am not — never can be yours. I know my 
 duty too well to yonder poor sufferer my sister — no 
 sacrifice can be too great for her dear sake," and she 
 fumbled for her pocket handkerchief. 
 
 " Rosa !" said I, " There's some beastly — I beg pardon 
 — some horrid mistake, I assure you." 
 
 She got up off the rock she was seated on, and rather 
 struck an attitude as pointing with her fork to Rachel, 
 she said — 
 
 " Mistake ? ah ! no, I will send her to you ; may 
 be the sight of the sorrow that is rending her — her heart 
 
270 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 may teach you your duty, oh ! Captain Charger why are 
 men so cruel ?" — and off she strode. 
 
 Then I saw her plump down beside Rachel, who, after 
 a few moments, rose and came towards me. Her arms 
 and clasped hands were stretched down to her knees, 
 and her head rested on her bosom, while her hair, re- 
 leased from her hat, which hung from its ribbons, fell in 
 disorder. She came slowly towards me with a sort of 
 theatrical walk, and I felt deucedly inclined to bolt. I 
 was only 20, remember. 
 
 " Grey F said she in her deepest contralto, " Grey, 
 Rosa has betrayed me, — giddy, silly girl. I would my 
 secret had died with me, but now you know all — yes ! 
 all." 
 
 " I'm awfully sorry Miss Rachel, I'm sure — but you 
 see — or rather you dont see — that is — " 
 
 " I have seen ! I do see" she cried, throwing her long 
 and rather attenuated arms heavenwards. " I have seen 
 your craft — your guile — I have marked the toils, the 
 snares — " 
 
 " Good Lord !" said I jumping up and upsetting a 
 plate and champagne glass, " Good Lord ! what are you 
 talking about ?" 
 
 " I say" she went on " I have marked the snares, the 
 toils, you have busily schemed with which to catch this 
 weak unfledged fluttering heart of mine, or that of yon poor 
 vi&im," and she spun round on her heels and dropped 
 on her toes with a jerk, and held out her arms towards 
 Rosa, who, to my surprise, was sitting with her head 
 buried in her hands and rocking to and fro apparently in 
 ecstacy of grief. 
 
A Strange Ride. 271 
 
 " Miss Sotirwash" said I, alter a pause " hadn't we 
 better go home ? — to your papa you know ?" 
 
 " Never !" she replied spinning round and facing me — 
 " never ! till you promise here beneath that deep blue 
 sky, and in the presence of these giants of the forest, and 
 of Joe there the mule boy, to marry me, or that poor 
 trembling child. 1 swear it," and she came down on my 
 arm with a clutch that staggered me — " and you, Grey 
 Charger, do you swear too." 
 "Damn it !" I ejaculated. 
 
 " Naughty boy !" said this queer woman, tapping me 
 playfully on the bridge, of my nose. " Naughty boy ! 
 Naughty word V 
 
 1 did not know what to think of her, or how to get quit 
 of such eccentric companions. Perhaps, I thought, it 
 will be best to humour them, so I said — 
 
 " Miss Sourwash, you must be aware I can't marry 
 both of you." 
 
 "Then we'll toss for you!'' she cried out. "Here! 
 Rachel P 
 
 " No, I wont toss/' I said, " let's go home." 
 " Ah ! You spurn me ! Spurn me !" and the fair Rosa 
 began to weep, and then tottered towards her sister who 
 rose to meet her, and flinging their arms round each 
 other they raised a dreadful row. 
 
 Well ! I had an awful time of it pacifying the two 
 ladies. I had to kiss one, — I forget which, but at last 
 they seemed to be more reasonable, and I got them on 
 their ponies. We turned homewards and a precious job 
 it was conveying them to Mt. Jupiter. They never spoke 
 a word, even when I tried to get up a conversation, and 
 
272 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 I had to keep twisting round on my saddle to see if they 
 were all right. A heavy storm broke just as we neared 
 the house and we got wet through. Joe let the lunch 
 basket fall over the bank into the river, and one of the 
 beasts was lamed, so we were in a nice pickle when we 
 got home. 
 
 Old Sourwash was at the door to meet us, and as I 
 helped his daughters to dismount, each pressed my hand 
 affectionately, and whispered her thanks and " You won't 
 tell papa," as she escaped into the house. 
 
 " Charger, my boy !" said my host, " dinner will be 
 ready dire&ly. Have a bitter before you dress ? That's 
 right." 
 
 *' Please Massa, de young lady say you mus' not 'specr. 
 them to dinner, they catch cold and no able for come 
 down," — so announced Pinkie, the sable handmaid of 
 the Misses Sourwash. 
 
 " Ah ! indeed," said their father. " All right, Pinkie. 
 Then Grey, we won't dress, that is of course you can put 
 on dry things but no swallow-tail, no white tie, you and I 
 will dine comfortably. There's your bitter, now go and 
 change." 
 
 As I put on other clothes, my thoughts of course con- 
 tinued to run upon the extraordinary conduct of the 
 Misses Sourwash. There was only one solution. They 
 were not accustomed to champagne and it had got into 
 their heads. I remembered how at dinner they never took 
 any thing but water, and that Joe when I asked him as to 
 what was in the basket, told me with glee that Miss 
 Rachel had put in the " pop" (in these degenerate days 
 it is " fizz") and that her father did not know. Joe was 
 
A Strange Ride. 273 
 
 entirely devoted to me thanks to sundry liberal tips, but 
 of course I could not question him as to the peculiarities 
 of his master and his daughters, but I made up my mind 
 to sacrifice the remaining two days of my leave and get 
 to barracks as fast as I could. I packed up my travelling 
 bag and bribed Joe to have it sent down before day, 
 while some other things were put in a small havresack 
 which I usually carried at my saddle bow. 
 
 These and other arrangements made, I reached the 
 dining room just as old Sourwash had ordered the bell to 
 be rung, and down we sate. I noticed that the old 
 gentleman's demeanour had changed and he was very 
 grumpy. This I attributed to some thing he had heard 
 from his daughters and I felt very uncomfortable. 
 
 " I hope" said I, " neither of the ladies suffered very 
 much from their wetting." 
 
 " Well," replied Sourwash, " no, I don't think so. 
 They're timid— shy." 
 
 " Very much so" I assented. 
 
 "What d'ye mean by 'very much so'?" demanded 
 Mr. Sourwash looking at me very hard. " However, I 
 want to have a few minutes conversation with you, but 
 not now, perhaps to-morrow." 
 
 " Certainly" I said, " by all means." 
 
 " You seem to have anticipated it then." 
 
 " Not exa&ly" I replied. 
 
 H Look here, Captain Grey Charger, I like a man to 
 speak out ; but, as I said before, we'll wait till to-morrow." 
 
 I emptied my glass and talked on other matters. Sour- 
 wash seemed to get very excited every now and then, and 
 had recourse to the decanters pretty often. If I passed 
 
 2 M 
 
274 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 the bottle he got angry, and so knowing that this sort of 
 thing was going to end with my departure, I com- 
 plied with his request and drank freely. Every few 
 minutes he appeared about to talk to me about his 
 daughters, and once or twice he mentioned their mother, 
 but he always checked himself suddenly and changed the 
 sub j eft. 
 
 By degrees I saw he was becoming affe&ed with what 
 he was drinking, and I too, felt that my head was be- 
 ginning to swim. But whenever I attempted to shirk 
 the bottle, he became more and more violent. 
 
 Either from his indistinct muttered talk or my discom- 
 posed brain, I could not make out what it was he wanted 
 to say to me; Some subjecl: it was which he seemed 
 anxious to confide to me, and what with hiis violent 
 gestures and my " funk" at being in some foolish way 
 compromised about his daughters, or one of them, I 
 became very uneasy. The candles had burned down and 
 gone out, but the faint light of the moon shone through 
 the room. The servants had retired, and by a glance 
 which I stole at my watch I saw it was between 10 and 
 ii. Sourwash had put one arm on the table and rested 
 his head on it, with the other hand he grasped a large 
 glass filled with port. Presently I saw he was asleep and 
 in a moment I felt there was no better time for me to 
 make my escape. Rising from my chair and steadying 
 myself for a minute, I gradually crept towards the door, 
 supporting myself by the wall. When I gained the 
 passage, my hat and whip were where I left them. West 
 Indian Outer doors in those days were rarely fastened, 
 and so in a moment I was in the open. I peeped 
 
A Strange Ride. 275 
 
 through the window and saw my host in the same position, 
 and then I started for the stables. Presently I heard 
 some one whisper " Captain ! Captain !" and found I 
 had been silently followed by Joe. I told him to get my 
 horse. He seemed to hesitate, but I repeated the order 
 and he left me. In my be-muddled state, and a thick 
 bank of clouds having obscured the moon, I took the 
 wrong path and found myself at the works. The mill 
 was stationary, and in the uncertain light I could make 
 out an animal standing there very like my horse Dobbin. 
 Joe has been precious quick, thought I, and when in 
 a low voice I called to Dobbin, the faithful creature 
 neighed in reply. I must tell you that the night air 
 had increased the effe&s of the wine I had taken ; in 
 fad I was very drunk. Everything seemed in a muddle, 
 but presently Joe appeared and saddled Dobbin. Then 
 I heard people coming, and fearing lest it was Sourwash, 
 I jumped on my horse's back. Joe attempted to say 
 something, but in vain. I cracked my whip and off went 
 Dobbin. I could hardly keep my seat, and we appeared 
 to be going through very heavy ground. Dobbin could 
 not manage more than a walk. Behind me I could hear 
 other animals following in pursuit, — the cries of their 
 riders and the lash of the whips as the horses were urged 
 on. Fortunately, as I thought, I had a start of them and 
 the same obstacles which impeded Dobbin hindered them ; 
 so on we went. The moon was behind the hills and the 
 place where we were became pitch dark. I felt at length 
 resigned to my fate ; it seemed as if Sourwash must 
 overtake me, and in his drunken rage he would be 
 capable of any violence, but oddly enough, although it 
 
276 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 must have been the result of the drink I had taken, I 
 seemed to have lost all care as to the result. I closed 
 my eyes and took a firmer grip with my knees. Presently 
 I heard the foremost of my pursuers call out, and his 
 horse evidently halted, so did Dobbin. I had been met 
 by a party coming from the other side. I did not care 
 to look and see who they were ; there was talking and 
 some laughter as if in glee at my recapture, then Dobbin 
 was led away and presently let go. He started at a feeble 
 trot and I found I was free and without followers. As 
 we rounded a corner, the moon again shone out and I 
 seemed to recognise the high road to the garrison, so I 
 left Dobbin, who at least was sober, to find the way. 
 
 I suppose I must have dozed off, for suddenly there 
 was a stumble and a crash. Thousands of sparks flashed 
 before my eyes, and I recolle&ed no more. 
 
 " It'll be one o' Sourwash's friends. A sojer officer 
 may be, eh ! and well drunken. Bring a light, Caesar." 
 Such were the first words I heard, and opening my eyes, 
 I found myself on my back close to the steps of a house, 
 with a decent looking man and a girl bending over me. 
 
 They raised me and I found I was none the worse, 
 perhaps, indeed the better for being somewhat sobered by 
 the fall. I was led into the house and placed on a sofa 
 while my new friend looked at me with a very inquisitive 
 eye. Then he brought me some drink in a tumbler 
 which he insisted on my taking. I complied, and in a 
 few minutes I was asleep. 
 
 At daybreak my host revisited me, my head was 
 quite clear, and I was anxious to continue my journey to 
 town. I had first, however to satisfy the old Scot's 
 
A Strange Ride. 277 
 
 curiosity, and I told him how that I had left Mr. Sourwash's 
 after dinner, and that affefted by the wine I had taken I 
 fancied I was pursued, &c. 
 
 "Tut man" said Mr. McLean, giving me a rap on the 
 shoulder, " I'll wager old Sour wash was up to his old 
 tricks. Dinna ye ken that when a friend comes to stay 
 at Mt. Jupiter that old deevil always puts in his horse for 
 a nicht's spell at the mill, and it's possible when ye 
 mounted your puir beast he was in the sweeps, and the 
 sound ye hard as if o' pursuers, was no mair than ither 
 five horses coming round and round with ye. Guid 
 Lord ! to think ye were sae fou as no to see that, and 
 for you to be for a' the world like ane o' those inventions 
 o' the deevil ye see at fairs at hame that they ca' merry- 
 go-rounds, and grinding auld Sourwash's canes, and 
 thinking yersel' a sort of Mazeppa. Eh, drink's a won- 
 derfu' thing !" 
 
 I joined in the laugh, though at my own expense. 
 
 " It's a crazy thing too" went on my host, " for a 
 man to do, for auld Sourwash, to gi'e the deevil his 
 due, is a hospitable man and no' sparing wi' his liquor 
 and maks his guests comfortable, but then puir man, he 
 has plenty o' trouble with these twa dochters o' his. Sad 
 thing, but they tak' after their mither wha died in an 
 asylum, and if they get a drop o' wine in their head 
 they're sair to manage." 
 
 Here then was the solution of the mystery. I left my 
 good friend's house, first sending a note to Sourwash 
 apologizing for my abrupt departure which I promised to 
 explain when we next met. How I was to do it would 
 have bothered me, but on arrival at the garrison I found 
 
278 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 I was under orders to leave next morning, for — I think, 
 Antigua ; and so I never saw St. Fiddles or Sourwash 
 or his daughters again. 
 
 TOO GRAMMATICAL. 
 
 I ONCE heard a sermon from a Bishop during his 
 visitation of St. Maria, which was very different from 
 those we were in the habit of listeni ng to ; it was, 
 if I may say so, pitched in a higher key ; and eloquent 
 and heart-stirring as it was, it was " fired a long way 
 over the heads" of the congregation who were almost 
 entirely of the peasant class, and a very uneducated set. 
 At St. Maria too, science was not cultivated, even by the 
 wealthier classes, and so when at length the good bishop 
 took advantage to employ the then more recent invention, 
 the speftroscope, as a figure in his ornate address, his 
 hearers were " nowhere." 
 
 Coming out of church I "met up with" (as we say in 
 St. Maria,) two old dames shaking hands with great 
 affe&ion, and enquiring after after each other's health. 
 
 " Well marm, how you does like he Lardship ? Me 
 dear Mrs. Harcless (Hercules,) you ebber hearee better 
 discoorse in you life marm ?" 
 
 " Well, me dear, fu tell de truth, me like de Lardship 
 v'ice, and he a nice lookin' man fo true, but he discoorse 
 to my hearee been ' too grammatical/ " 
 
Reverend Bernard Bumpshus. 279 
 
 REVEREND BERNARD BUMPSHUS. 
 
 WHEN the Reverend Bernard Bumpshus ob- 
 tained a curacy in St, Sangaree, he made 
 the mistake, common to many young men 
 beginning their career, who consider themselves superior 
 to everyone who does not happen to be of their own pro- 
 fession ; and Bumpshus was a great sinner in this respeft. 
 He was an earnest, steady fellow, and in society was 
 rather quiet and retiring, but once in the pulpit, or other- 
 wise on duty, thought nothing of asserting the superiority 
 of his order and his own attainments, and of course often 
 with a ludicrous result. 
 
 " I am convinced" once said he in most self-satisfied 
 tones, " that this is the duty of a Christian, and on refer- 
 to the Epistle to the ch. — verse — , you will find 
 
 that S. Paul entirely agrees with me." Another time he 
 observed " I feel confident that Adam was endowed with 
 scientific attainments of no mean order. I may indeed 
 account him as the prototype of Owen and Darwin, for 
 we learn that he was able to name each member of the 
 animal world as it was created, and I have no doubt he 
 did it correftly." 
 
 But poor Bumpshus once got a sad rebuff, and in this 
 wise. 
 
 In Saint Maria in his time there yet lingered some 
 of the * old guard' of the former plantocracy, who had 
 come out young, had fallen under the influence of evil 
 example, absence of purer, better associates, and had 
 taken to themselves, tho' not in marriage, daughters of 
 the land and so some, in every other respeft, blame- 
 
iBo West Indian Yarns. 
 
 less old gentleman would be surrounded by a group of 
 dusky children who were unceremoniously sent out of 
 sight, when visitors came, and whose mother never 
 appeared in company. Of course, against examples such 
 as these, precepts of moral tendency were of no effect ; 
 the people around reasoned that if the white man " the 
 local magnate" so lived without shame and rebuke, so 
 might they. 
 
 Bernard Bumpshus therefore one afternoon rode down 
 to the estate of a Mr. Glenlivet, an old Scotch gentleman, 
 who was, so far, a scandal and offender in this respecl: 
 that two families called him father, while neither of the 
 mothers could legally call him husband. Glenlivat had 
 been ill, sick unto death, and his recovery was in great 
 measure due to the assiduous care of the two dames, who 
 as a rule sank all jealousy of each other, and did their best 
 to nurse Mass' Andrew back to health. Bumpshus 
 thought, not unnaturally, that a man who had stood 
 almost within the portals of the grave, would feel better 
 inclined to listen to his advice ; and he counted also on 
 the affettionate gratitnde which the attention of, at all 
 events, Miss Bella, who was the mother of some half 
 dozen of his children, would call forth. 
 
 " Mr. Glenlivet," said he, after some minutes' previous 
 congratulations on the old man's restoration, and some 
 general conversation, «' I think it my duty to remind you 
 of the uncertainty of life, of which you must have had 
 some evidence, or rather I should say of the certainty of 
 death, and as the clergyman of this parish, I call on you 
 to amend your ways, and to live the remainder of your 
 life in a proper way." 
 
Reverend Bernard Bumpshus. 281 
 
 " And gude Lord ! what'll ye ha'e me do ?" 
 
 " I would have you repent, and show your repentance 
 and desire of amendment by " 
 
 "Jest hear to him!" said Gienlivet, addressing the 
 chairs and tables, his only audience, " jest hear to him 1 
 and how am I to amend ?" 
 
 " Why, sir, by marrying Miss Bella, I don't know her 
 full name ; Miss Bella, who has been a faithful helpmate 
 to you for many years, and a tender nurse, and is, I 
 regret to say, the mother of your six children." 
 
 "It's no sax, it'll be seeven, but let that pass/' 
 exclaimed Gienlivet. " I've nae doubt but ye mean weel, 
 Mr. Bumpshus, and I'll be wullin' to follow your teachin', 
 but " 
 
 " There should be no ' buts' in such a case, Mr. Gien- 
 livet, duty says " 
 
 " Eh eh man ! never min' what duty says, the difficulty 
 is jest this, that if I marry Bella that's borne me seeven, 
 what will I dae wi' Becca that's borne me ten ? answer 
 me that." 
 
 It was a difficult question to reply to, and Bumpshus 
 perhaps did best when he fled from the house without a 
 word. 
 
 " That's the warst o' sen din' boys, the like 0' him, that 
 does na understan' the customs o' the country," was 
 Glenlivat's parting remark as he whistled back to his 
 knees his little flock. 
 
 One day Bumpshus edified his congregation by in- 
 forming them that " S. James shewed a keen perception 
 of the frailty of human nature, when he coupled the two 
 admonitions * Visit the widow and orphan, and keep 
 
 2 N 
 
382 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 yourself unspotted from the world.' Indeed," he con- 
 tinued, " from my own experience, I know how difficult it 
 is to visit a widow and not be spotted. " Now the Revd. 
 Bernaid had been suspe&ed of making love to a rather 
 good-looking widow of thirty or thereabouts, who owned 
 a small estate, and he had when twitted about his frequent 
 visits, declared they were to the lady's aged mother ; and 
 so the remark was appreciated, and made some of the 
 more profane smile. 
 
 AN OFFICIAL DUCAL FIRM. 
 
 MY acquaintance, Mr. Thomas Tinker, on the 
 strength of being the owner of fifty acres of 
 an abandoned estate in St. Molasses, and of 
 keeping a small provision store at the village hard by, 
 dubbed himself proprietor and merchant, and having 
 been ele&ed member of the Legislative Assembly of that 
 island, by the votes of three electors out of a constituency 
 of seven, became the leader of the opposition. He be- 
 came also the bite noire of Governors and was a 
 terrible fellow at correspondence. One day, however, 
 Tom went home, to lay, as he declared, his many griev- 
 ances at the foot of the throne, or at all events, at the 
 door of the Colonial Office. He returned with grievances 
 unredressed, with a keener sense of injustice, and of 
 want of due regard to the important questions with which 
 his patriotic bosom burned. " The Colonial Office" he 
 shrieked out to an admiring knot of friends and admirers, 
 "the Colonial Office! pah! Why, gentlemen, I went 
 
A Lost Love. 283 
 
 there — the underlings received me with an air as if they 
 remembered who I was, and whence I came ; — but I 
 would have none of them, I wanted the fountain head, so 
 I said, * I wish to see the Dook— the Dook o' Bucking- 
 ham/ " 
 
 " One flippant fellow said, says he, * He's out.' " 
 
 •' Then, said I, let me see Chandos." 
 
 " All I got for a reply was an impertinent snigger, till 
 one clerk said, * He's out too.' " 
 
 " I don't believe it, I never will believe it, — it was a 
 subterfuge, a side wind to get rid of me ; but I let 'em 
 have it ! I says. ' In business, gentlemen, this wouldn't 
 do for both partners to be out at the same time, if, say 
 Buckingham is out, why Chandos ought to be here and 
 vicey varsus.' I wish you good day. And I shook the 
 dust off my feet. That's how we're governed., gentlemen." 
 
 " Thank you !" Tom replied, after a pause, to some 
 whispered enquiry from one of his friends, " I don't mind 
 if I do," and the group moved towards the hotel. 
 ♦ 
 
 A LOST LOVE. 
 
 WE — that is my uncle Jonas and I — were a 
 firm of Solicitors. Our business was carried 
 on in my uncle's name, " Jonas Spoonly." 
 He objected to " and Co." as it was commercial, and as 
 long as I got my share of the profits I did not objeft to 
 nCejfacer. Besides, my name was Jonas, also ; and I re- 
 flected that when I became sole partner, there would be 
 no occasion to change the style. It is true my second 
 name was Maurice, but this my uncle bade me drop — at 
 
284 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 all events, in business, for, as he said it was too — some- 
 thing, romantic. The monotony of a Solicitor's life in the 
 colonies is not usually relieved by startling incidents. 
 Our business chiefly led us among titles, wills, and deeds, 
 and now and then commercial squabbles. We did not 
 care for criminal work, but there was one event of which 
 an old letter or two, and a faded ribbon that I came 
 across the other day, reminded me. 
 
 When I returned frorri England after a short leave of 
 absence in 18 — 1 found my uncle much more " chirpy" 
 and brushed up than he was when I left. He moved 
 about briskly and had contra&ed a queer habit of rubbing 
 his hands together and smiling to himself, which I could 
 not understand. If he saw me looking at him at such 
 times, he would blush and resume his usual business 
 manner with a somewhat guilty look. I knew better than 
 to ask what it all meant, but I set about to watch and 
 find out for myself. 
 
 One morning a week after my return, my uncle had as 
 usual opened and read the letters which had been de- 
 livered at the office ; it was a duty which he always in- 
 sisted on performing himself, and he handed them over 
 to me with some remarks or instructions about each. 
 One, however, written in a feminine hand on perfumed 
 rose-coloured paper, he clumsily smuggled into his 
 waistcoat pocket as he watched me, apparently intent on 
 the communication he had last turned over to me. 
 
 " By the way Jonas" said he, as I was leaving the 
 
 office, " I think I shall have to go but never mind : 
 
 I'll tell you later on." 
 
 I went to my room and began work on the papers 
 
A Lost Love. 285 
 
 before me and soon forgot all about my uncle's rose- 
 coloured billet. Presently, however, he opened the door 
 and putting in his head, remarked " Jonas I am going 
 out — back for dinner you know — just going as far as — 
 but I'll tell you by and bye." 
 
 It was a common trick of my uncle to say " I'll tell 
 you by and bye," but it was a promise he never fulfilled. 
 
 " Cannot I go for you, Sir ?" I asked. 
 
 " Oh dear no" he replied, in a startled manner. " Oh ! 
 no. Goodbye. Thank you Jonas, no, I'll tell you"— 
 and the bang of the door drowned the rest of the usual 
 formula. 
 
 What has come over my uncle ? thought I, as I re- 
 sumed my employment. 
 
 I remembered that old Hecuba had welcomed me 
 home with more than usual impressement and had said 
 she was glad to see me back " for my uncle's sake ;" 
 but I attached no particular meaning to her words. 
 Hecuba (or Mrs. Hecuba Romeo) was my uncle's house- 
 keeper. When my father came over from England a 
 disconsolate widower, with me then about five years old, 
 he took up his abode with his bachelor brother Jonas, 
 and Hecuba was employed as my nurse. When my 
 father died, and I went to Europe for my education, she 
 was continued as governante, and her affeftion and skill 
 kept me well supplied with the jellies, syrups and " sweeties" 
 that made me so popular with my schoolfellows. It is 
 due to Hecuba's memory to say, her position in the 
 house was unequivocal, and was understood and re- 
 spected by all. I determined therefore to see if my old 
 nurse could give me any information. 
 
386 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 Scarcely had I come to this conclusion, when the door 
 half opened, and a face appeared for an instant, and then 
 was withdrawn too rapidly for me to see more than that it 
 was that of a veiled female. " Come in," I called out, 
 but as there was no response, I slid off my chair, and was 
 at the door in an instant. 
 
 There stood a lady, in a riding habit of soft dark grey 
 material, which set off her slight and supple figure, a 
 single lavender bow at her throat was her only ornament, 
 while a straw hat with a veil completed her costume. 
 " Whom may you wish to see, Madam ?" I enquired. 
 M Mr. Jonas Spoonly," was the lady's reply in a gentle 
 soft voice with a foreign accent. 
 
 " I am Mr. Jonas Spoonly," said I, adding, as some- 
 thing like a little laugh came from behind the veil, " that 
 is, Mr. Jonas Spoonly, junior. I can, if you please, 
 attend to you. I am my uncle's partner." 
 •' It is with your uncle I have affairs." 
 
 " But he is out, and I " 
 
 " When will he return ?" 
 
 " That is difficult to say. Will you take a seat till he 
 comes ?" and I opened the door and invited my uncle's 
 client into my office. 
 
 " Thank you, but he may not return till late, do you 
 know where he has gone ?" 
 " My uncle did not tell me." 
 
 "I wrote to him to say that I should ride in this 
 afternoon, but I have come round by La Source. Yes, if 
 you will permit me, I will wait for half an hour." 
 
 " Pardon me," said I, as she seated herself in an easy- 
 chair, " you have ridden here, has any one taken your 
 horse V 
 
A Lost Love. 287 
 
 " Thanks ; my groom has taken it to the hotel, where 
 I will walk when I leave here." 
 
 " May I ask to whom I have the pleasure of speaking ? 
 I have just returned from England and though I knew 
 all my uncle's old clients " 
 
 " I fear," said the lady, I am not to be ranked in so 
 distinguished a company. I am not an old client." 
 
 " Of course not, Madam, not old in one sense — you 
 know what I mean." 
 
 " I know what you wish to know, monsieur, and that 
 is, who I am. Well, I suppose I may tell my business to 
 your uncle's partner. My name is La Roche, and in 
 your absence I have arrived in St. Molasses, I am a 
 widow, my husband came here to receive some property ; 
 he died a year ago, and I have come to see about his 
 affairs. I was directed to your uncle. I don't know that 
 I have more to tell you, monsieur" and as she ended this 
 statement she removed her veil. 
 
 I was prepared to see a pretty face, but I confess not 
 one so perfeft as that of my — or rather my uncle's — 
 client. It was oval with large violet eyes and long black 
 lashes, her hair was also black and worn off her fore- 
 head, her mouth was perhaps a little too small, but her 
 smile was simply enchanting, at least to me, a somewhat 
 susceptible fellow of twenty-five. I was so much struck 
 with Madame La Roche's beauty that some moments 
 elapsed before I could reply. 
 
 II My uncle has not mentioned your case to me, Madam" 
 I at length said. " No doubt he will. I am not aware 
 indeed that I have seen your papers. Is there anything 
 I can tell him in case he does not return in time to see 
 you ?" 
 
West Indian Yarns. 
 
 f* I fear not, Monsieur Jonas" she replied. " It seems 
 I must see him myself. He is so good, so patient, so 
 responsive. You do not know how much I — I esteem 
 your uncle, Mr. Jonas ;" and she looked down at her 
 little foot that peeped out from a fold of her skirt. 
 
 "My uncle is indeed fortunate" I exclaimed, "pro- 
 fessional services are rarely so well repaid." 
 
 " No" replied Madame La Roche in a sarcastic tone, 
 " professional men generally seek their reward in a fee, 
 or in the professional success that attracts fresh clients. 
 Your uncle does not value the one, — he does not require 
 the other," 
 
 "Then Madam" I remarked, "since his reward is 
 your — your esteem, let me remind you we are partners, 
 my uncle and I, and a share of the profits of every 
 transaction is mine ; may I then ask for my portion of 
 your esteem ?" 
 
 " When you earn it, Mr. Jonas." 
 
 " I will try to do so, Madame La Roche" was my 
 reply. 
 
 She sate a little longer and then looking at her watch, 
 said " Now I must go ; your good uncle has not returned. 
 I will write to him. Adieu ! Monsieur, many thanks." 
 
 " Nay" said I, " you must allow me to escort you to 
 the hotel" and I got my hat. 
 
 In the way it occurred me to suggest that we might 
 call at our house and see if my uncle had returned. 
 Madame La Roche assented, and on opening the door I 
 found Hecuba about to go out. 
 
 " Mrs. Romeo," I enquired, " is my uncle here ?" 
 
 The old lady replied in the negative, and as we turned 
 
A Lost Love. 289 
 
 to leave she gave Madame La Roche a searching glance. 
 We had gone a few paces when I turned, looked around, 
 and saw Hecuba gazing after us, and slowly shaking her 
 head in rather an ominous way. 
 
 I escorted Madame La Roche to the hotel, where her 
 groom was waiting with her horse, or rather pony. 
 Having assisted her to mount, I bade her farewell. I 
 fancied there was some slight pressure of my hand, and 
 then I walked slowly home. 
 
 Of course for a lawyer, love at first sight is a most un- 
 professional folly, but there was something in Madame 
 La Roche's manner, something in the tone of her voice, 
 that, to use a modern vulgarism, had " fetched" me, and 
 there arose in my breast a feeling very much akin to 
 jealousy of my respe&ed uncle. 
 
 I had not forgotten my intention to enquire of Hecuba 
 the cause of my uncle's manner, but it suddenly occurred 
 to me that perhaps it was owing to some absurd in- 
 fatuation of his with respeft to his pretty client. Any doubt 
 on the subjeft was dispelled on my enquiring from Hecuba 
 if my uncle had yet returned, by her remarking : — 
 
 " No indeed, Mr. Jo ; no indeed. That Marm Laroosh 
 that you been walking with — well — she's a scheming 
 woman for true. Take care she no fool you uncie, but 
 here he comes ; my father ! I never think he so stupid- 
 he eyes so clean and he no see dat woman's tricks — she 
 scheme till — me never see such a ting !" 
 
 When my uncle came in, he looked tired and annoyed. 
 He answered me sharply, and was deaf to Hecuba's 
 enquiries. I asked where he had been and he replied 
 that he would tell me by and bye, and to my remark 
 
 2 o 
 
390 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 that Madame La Roche had been at the office, he 
 snapped out : — 
 
 f Yes, so I heard, I met her and she told me." 
 
 " I did not learn what was the business about which 
 she wished to see you," I replied. 
 
 " No, I dare say not," said my uncle, " it was private 
 business — nothing to do with office work." 
 
 " A good-looking person," I remarked in a cool in- 
 different tone, " rather young for a widow though, not 
 more I should say than twenty-two." 
 
 My uncle glinted at me from beneath his bushy eye- 
 brows. 
 
 I continued — " Tidy figure, very good eyes, nice hair 
 too, a very decent foot and ankle, nose perhaps a 
 leetle too " 
 
 " Confound it !" shouted uncle Jonas, putting down 
 his knife and fork, " Confound it, you talk like a demon- 
 strator of anatomy, or a Judge at a cattle show." 
 
 " Well," I explained, " I was only enumerating the 
 several items that went to make up a rather charming 
 woman. Don't you agree with me ?" 
 
 *' Madame La Roche" said my uncle, " is a lady who 
 demands sympathy and respeft; I confess she possesses 
 mine and — '' 
 
 •! So I gathered from what she told me," I interrupted, 
 " she said you were good and patient, and responsive 
 (whatever that may mean) and she also intimated that I 
 could not imagine how much she — she — esteemed you. 
 I congratulate you uncle Jonas !" 
 
 The old gentleman only replied with an angry glance ; 
 I fortunately kept my countenance. 
 
A Lost Love. 291 
 
 " I thought" I went on " she might have come on that 
 wild-goose chase that brought her husband here, about 
 that estate he fancied he was entitled to. You remember 
 uncle, you upset all Monsieur La Roche's hopes by show- 
 ing that his title was bad, and then he caught the fever 
 and died." 
 
 " I may have been mistaken" said my uncle. 
 
 W You were quite right though." 
 
 " The opinion of so experienced a practitioner as Mr. 
 Jonas Spoonly, junior, is of the greatest value to me," 
 sneered my uncle ; " perhaps we may drop discussing 
 M. La Roche, his widow and his affairs." 
 
 I said no more, at all events on thafr subjeft, on which 
 my uncle seemed peculiarly sore, and we finished the 
 meal in silence. 
 
 For some days after, my uncle's old manner returned ; 
 his unusually brisk and vivacious habit in great measure 
 gave way to a preoccupied determined air, and in addition 
 he appeared to have become suspicious of me, and to 
 transfer much of his confidence to our clerk, Mclnroy. 
 
 We had, as it happened, a good deal of work to get 
 through just then, and I was fully occupied, not so much 
 so however, as to exclude all thoughts of Madame La 
 Roche. 
 
 She lived, I found, at a pretty little cottage about five 
 miles from town, with an old servant and a lad who 
 groomed Madame's little pony and ran messages. I was 
 anxious to see her again, but was deterred from riding out 
 to the " Retreat," as her house was called, more by a 
 disinclination to cause gossip, than by any fear of my 
 uncle's displeasure. He, however, in his role of pro- 
 
292 
 
 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 fessional adviser, and as an old staid gentleman, was 
 not so liable to be talked about, and I suspeft he occa- 
 sionally turned his grey nag's head toward Madame La 
 Roche's residence. I ascertained moreover, that old 
 Hecuba's mistrust of the pretty client arose from a fear 
 that if my uncle were so weak, and Madame La Roche 
 so crafty, as to marry, the old lady's despotic rule of the 
 Spoonly manage would be over ; and she therefore con- 
 ceived a hatred to Madame La Roche, that was — except 
 for this reason — perfe&ly unjustifiable. 
 
 One afternoon, I was riding leisurely out of the town 
 when I saw Madame La Roche going up the hill in the 
 same direftion. She was mounted on her pony, and her 
 boy who had a basket or packall on his head, was hold- 
 ing on to the animal's tail, as is the habit of boys in St. 
 Molasses. 
 
 Of course I was soon at her side. In St. Molasses 
 where the roads run up hill and down dale, and are not 
 in tip-top order, one's pony does not travel fast, especially 
 with a boy tugging at his tail, and so five miles is really 
 a long ride ; hence there was plenty of time for a long 
 conversation. 
 
 Now I cannot be expected to remember, much less to 
 repeat all " I said" and M she said" but I found out that 
 Madame La Roche had, as I guessed, come to try and 
 recover a property which once belonged to her husband's 
 relative and that my uncle had not only not informed her 
 of the all but hopelessness of her case, but had rather led 
 her to expeft success. 
 
 Madame La Roche had received money from my 
 uncle on the understanding that they were advances for 
 
A Lost Love. 293 
 
 which the latter would recoup himself when he recovered 
 her property, and that she had no present means of re- 
 paying the sums so borrowed. 
 
 I learned also that my uncle had made her an offer of 
 marriage, which Madame La Roche had declined, alleging 
 that her sentiments toward him were only those of gra- 
 titude &c. for his own exertions on her behalf. 
 
 As time went on, my uncle became more and more 
 soured, he never enquired where I went of an afternoon, 
 and of course Madame La Roche's name was never men- 
 tioned. I, however, began to work upon the case of her 
 late husband's claim and had opportunities of seeing her. 
 My attachment increased. I hoped to become Louise's 
 (that is, Madame La Roche's) successful champion, re- 
 cover his property, and so deliver her from obligation to 
 my worthy uncle. 
 
 In one of our interviews, Louise told me that my uncle's 
 last advance had been a sum of 300 dollars for which 
 sum he had direfted her to draw on him, that he accepted 
 the draft, and that she had taken it to the Bank and ob- 
 tained the money. I concluded that he adopted this 
 course so that the transa&ion might appear more business- 
 like than giving her his cheque. 
 
 One afternoon I was going for a ride and found my 
 uncle at the door mounting his horse and so we rode side 
 by side out of the town. My uncle asked me where I 
 was going. I replied " Nowhere in particular ;" and we 
 jogged on together until we reached the foot of the hill 
 where the road divided, a somewhat narrow track leading 
 up to the Retreat, Madame La Roche's cottage, while the 
 highway ran along the level. Here my uncle pulled up. 
 
294 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 " I suppose," said be, "you are going to visit your in- 
 teresting friend" and he pointed with his whip towards 
 the hill top. 
 
 " No," I replied, " I am not, perhaps you are, in 
 
 which case " 
 
 " Look here, Sir," he burst out, " I want to speak to 
 you. I believe some formalities are usual when a client 
 changes his lawyer. You have thought fit to advise 
 Madame La Roche independently of me, your partner. 
 We cannot both ad for her, she must choose between us. 
 "You seem to forget," I replied, "that you alone 
 afted for her, and denied to me, your partner, that her 
 visit to our office was on business." 
 
 "No doubt," continued my uncle, "you think your 
 good looks supply any deficiency in experience and 
 knowledge of the case, however we £ shall see who 
 succeeds." 
 
 " Uncle," I replied, " let this cease. I had no desire 
 to cross your path as Madam La Roche's professional 
 adviser. If you hope to occupy^ another position, one 
 which " 
 
 " I will occupy, my dear nephew, in spite of your 
 superior attra&ions, and your visits on the sly to this good 
 lady. You have some advantages over me, perhaps, but 
 when the time comes, you'll see. I'll shew you by and 
 bye." 
 
 " You are unjust" said I — " whatever my sentiments 
 may be, I have never presumed to — " 
 
 " Well here she comes" observed my uncle, " let her 
 choose between us now." 
 
 We sate watching Madame La Roche on her pony 
 
A Lost Love. 295 
 
 slowly descending the hill, her boy as usual following 
 her. My uncle and I never exchanged a look or word, 
 until we suddenly saw her animal bound forward and 
 galop towards us. Madame La Roche had dropped her 
 reins, and lost all command over her steed. In a moment 
 I leapt from my saddle, and rushed up the hill to her 
 assistance, fortunately coming up with the run-away just 
 as its mistress fell from its back. Fortunately I was able 
 to break her fall and to place her on the ground, and 
 support her head against my shoulder, for she had 
 fainted. 
 
 Her wretched pony continued its course down hill, in- 
 dulging in a kick or two, till cannoning against uncle 
 Jonas's charger, the shock dislodged my relative from his 
 saddle, and I saw his white-trousered legs describe an 
 arc in the air while his head came on the grass with a 
 thud. He was not however hurt, and regaining his feet 
 he came towards us. 
 
 " Uncle, some water, f I shouted, pointing to a little 
 spring in the hillside. 
 
 The old gentleman improvised a cup out of a leaf, and 
 having filled it brought it to me. 
 
 " Drink, pretty creature drink," said he unconsciously 
 quoting Wordsworth, and putting the water to Madame 
 La Roche's lips. " Louise ! do, do, drink" — and he patted 
 her on the shoulder as he popped down on his knees. 
 Under other circumstances my uncle's distress might 
 have been touching, but I confess to me it was ludicrous 
 in the extreme. His hat — he wore a tall white felt, bell- 
 topper, — had been crushed in his fall, and he had put 
 the mis-shapen affair on the back of his head ; his coat 
 
296 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 was all over dust, and the knees of his trousers had a 
 pitch of vivid green on them, while a sprig of acacia had 
 scratched him across his nose ; so that altogether he 
 looked a most deplorable figure. 
 
 As Madame La Roche opened her eyes, and saw this 
 apparition intently gazing at her, she started and gave a 
 scream. 
 
 "Madame La Roche" began my uncle. 
 
 " Oh ! go, — take him away'' she said, placing her out- 
 stretched hands before her, " take him away !" then 
 looking up at me, murmured " Maurice, dear Maurice," 
 and bending down my face to hers, our lips met. 
 
 " Well I am d d" ejaculated Uncle Silas regaining 
 
 his feet, and attempting by no means of vigorous knocks 
 with his fist to restore the symmetry of his injured hat, 
 " you're a nice couple you are — and you madam adven- 
 turess, you think you've got the whip hand of me do 
 you ? but I'll show you by and bye. " Yes ;" he repeated 
 as Louise smiled, "yes, you may grin, but who wins, 
 laughs." 
 
 I will not dwell upon the tender words that passed 
 between Louise and me as my uncle stalked away, and 
 how I saw her to her house. I was very happy, so happy 
 that I only gave her boy half the thrashing he deserved 
 for having caused the accident by " chocking'* the pony 
 with a stick to make it go. 
 
 A few days later, I was in St. Molasses Bank on 
 business of my own, and while at the counter heard my 
 uncle's voice in the manager's office. 
 
 " Well," replied my uncle, " I won't be sure of 
 course, but I can soon tell. I have sent to enquire, 
 
A Lost Love. 297 
 
 and the messenger will soon return. I'll tell you by 
 and bye." 
 
 " Forgery" said the manager " is severely punished. 
 Look again, Mr. Spoonly. Of course I ought to take 
 your first denial, but — pardon me — it seems so like your 
 handwriting, I venture to ask you to be quite certain." 
 
 As the manager spoke, a boy ran into the Bank, and 
 handed me a note in Louise's writing addressed to Jonas 
 Spoonly, Esqr. The boy was wet through, for it was 
 raining, and he chattered something ahout the river being 
 down and the bridge carried away, but my attention was 
 engrossed by the note. I don't know that I did wrong 
 to open it, although she usually in writing to me used my 
 second name Maurice, but I feared some catastrophe. 
 As I ran my eyes over the letter, I became aware of the 
 cruel plot my uncle had laid. Louise had written— 
 •* You know you accepted the bill or paper or whatever 
 it was you told me to sign, in order that I might get the 
 money you advanced me. You know it is no forgery. 
 You threaten to involve me in a crime of which I am 
 innocent. I know the penalty — shame — imprisonment, 
 worse than death : but I rejeft the alternative you propose. 
 My heart is no longer mine, it is Maurice's. I never 
 could love you, — this last aft of yours makes me hate 
 you. Maurice will help me — if he cannot, God will! 
 L. L." 
 
 " Boy" said I, carefully refolding the note and repealing 
 the envelope, " this is not for me, give it to Mr. Spoonly 
 in there."— I pointed to the door. 
 
 I could watch my uncle as he tore open the note, and 
 I marked the demoniacal expression that came over his 
 
 Iff 
 
298 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 face as he crushed the paper and thrust it into his 
 pocket. 
 
 •♦That acceptance," said he, "is not in my hand- 
 writing." 
 
 "Then I have only one course to pursue" returned 
 the manager, and he rung a bell. "I will send for 
 Mr. " naming the Inspector of Police. 
 
 " Spare yourself the trouble Mr.— — " said I, walking 
 into his office, " I have overheard part of what you were 
 saying, I hope you will excuse my intruding. Be so 
 good as to let me see the paper you speak of." 
 
 " You have nothing to do with it, Sir, I protest"— 
 began my uncle. 
 
 The manager however placed before me Louise's draft 
 for $300, and across it was what was evidently my uncle's 
 acceptance. I looked at it for a minute and then said : — 
 
 " My uncle is right, this is not his writing, it is mine, 
 I accepted it as my uncle's partner. Here is a cheque 
 for the amount." 
 
 " Do you know you're telling a lie, Jonas 1" said my 
 uncle, " a lie ! Sir" and he walked out of the bank in a 
 towering rage. 
 
 The manager who knew all about the rivalry between 
 myself and my relative, looked much relieved at my 
 aftion, and when my uncle was gone, he glanced en- 
 quiringly at me, but I could not stay to satisfy his 
 curiosity. I longed to see Louise and relieve her anxiety, 
 so in a few minutes I was cantering towards the Retreat. 
 
 It had been raining heavily, and the road was much 
 cut up. As I proceeded, I could hear the roar of the 
 torrent into which the small stream which crossed the 
 
A Lost Love. 299 
 
 road at the foot of the hill, had been swollen by the rain. 
 
 In fine weather, the ford and its surroundings formed 
 a picturesque scene. The road turned abruptly to the 
 right, past a large rock partly covered with ferns and 
 moss, above which towered a clump of bamboos, throwing 
 the water beneath them into deep shadow only broken 
 by the ripples, as they danced over stones and pebbles. 
 On the left of the road was a similar boulder stretching 
 across the bed of the stream, and damming the water 
 into a narrow space ; gliding past this obstru&ion, the 
 brook then fell first into a broad and shallow pool, and 
 then, separated into a dozen little rills, it leapt and skipped 
 down the face of a large rock into a dark deep basin, 
 round and round which the water swept in circles crowned 
 with bubbling eddies. The people called this spot 
 " Deadman's hole," and even in a bright sunny day, to 
 gaze down at it below the thick foliage which cast a 
 sombre shade over it, half gave one the idea that the 
 place was haunted. There was some dismal story con- 
 nected with the place, and it was generally avoided, the 
 more so, as the strongest swimmer could not hope to 
 escape from its almost ice-cold waters. 
 
 On the day of which I speak however, the scene was 
 indeed changed. The brook had become a river, and 
 over-whelming the road, it dashed impetuously along. 
 At each obstacle its waves were tossed high in the air ; 
 the roar of the waters was mingled with the shock of the 
 stones which it bore in its course along with boughs and 
 trunks of trees. The place where the boulder in dry 
 weather presented a barrier to the stream, was marked by 
 the waves dashing over it, and from the precipice over- 
 
300 
 
 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 hanging " Dead man's hole" clouds of spray were thrown 
 up in quick succession. 
 
 To cross the stream was of course impossible. The frag- 
 ments of a foot bridge, built of slight materials had been 
 swept away, and one of its white beams still fastened to 
 the bank tossed in the water like a straw. 
 
 There were one or two people on the other side who 
 pointed down the stream, and appeared from their gestures 
 to be calling to me, but their voices were drowned by the 
 roar and noise ol the current. 
 
 I stood for a while trying to understand them, but in 
 vain. At length, fastening my horse to a tree, I walked 
 in the direction they indicated down the brink of the 
 river bed, and they followed my example, keeping of 
 course, on the other bank. After some scrambling and a 
 fall or two, I came to M Deadman's hole." At first I only 
 saw that it had been converted into, as it were, a boiling 
 cauldron. The river dashed down the face of the boulder 
 above it in one large sheet of foaming water, and the 
 basin was full of tossing waves, dashing against its sides. 
 It was a fearful sight, but one more dreadful awaited me. 
 Under the further bank, I saw what at first seemed part 
 of some up-rooted tree, but in a moment I recog- 
 nized the form of Louise. She lay, nearly covered with 
 water, in a little recess of the rock around a proje&ing 
 portion of which one arm was twisted, the other, bent 
 upwards to her face, which was turned towards me, 
 seemed as it obeyed the motion of the waves, to beckon 
 to me. At a glance I saw the truth. I knew that she I 
 loved was drowned, — was dead. 
 
 For some moments I gazed,— spell-bound — and then, 
 
The Major-General's Yarn. 301 
 
 as her arm once more appeared to beckon me I prepared 
 to leap into the boiling water and reach her ; but as I 
 stood up and stretched my arms for a plunge, the strong 
 grasp of some man who had followed me to the scene, 
 dragged me back from destru&ion. 
 
 I knew no more till weeks after, when I awoke to find 
 old Hecuba bending over me. In time, I was able to 
 leave my bed room, and thence travel to England. 
 Months — two years — passed before I regained my strength, 
 some said my senses ; and then I learned how Louise 
 had perished in her attempt to reach me, that I might 
 proteft her from my uncle's base and cruel scheme. She 
 and her pony had been swept away while crossing the 
 ford, and had been carried down to the spot where I had 
 seen her. Then too, I learned that uncle Jonas was no 
 more ; that with a few words of contrition he had left me 
 all he possessed, which was more than enough for my 
 wants. 
 
 They never let me return to St. Molasses, nor do I care 
 to go ; so here I live in a quiet English home, waiting 
 till I am called to rejoin my lost Louise. Of her, all I 
 possess, save the sweet memory of her love, are a few 
 letters and a long tress of hair tied in a lavender ribbon 
 which old Hecuba, who has just handed me my pipe, 
 gave me the day I left St. Molasses for ever. 
 
 THE MAJOR-GENERAL'S YARN. 
 
 I SUPPOSE it is only grey-headed fellows like my- 
 self, who were quartered in Barataria in the forties, 
 that recollett Mary Gordon — " Miss Mary," as she 
 always insisted on being called, and who kept the hotel 
 
302 Wist Indian Yarns. 
 
 of the place. There was another, an opposition affair, 
 that succeeded chiefly in attra&ing the mercantile marine, 
 but was considered only a second-rate establishment. 
 Some times with fresh paint and a new flag, it strove to 
 put on an appearance of superiority, but it never enticed 
 any desirable customer from Mary. Her clientele con- 
 sisted of the " landed gentry," who, if they had no town 
 house of their own, made Mary's their headquarters when 
 they came in on estates' business, or to attend the Legis- 
 lature or Law Courts, and who always brought their 
 families on the rather frequent occasions of a ball at the 
 Governor's or some other house. The Hotel was also the 
 rendezvous of naval officers, while there was often a 
 transieat official guest awaiting the preparation of his 
 house or the arrival of the homeward packet, — then of 
 course a sailing vessel. Miss Mary therefore, could afford 
 to look down on the neighbouring hostel, and indeed to 
 regard it as a sort of convenient receptacle for guests 
 whom she did not care to receive or retain. 
 
 In those days Gordon's hotel did a big business. There 
 was a strong garrison in Barataria, and we young fellows, 
 when off duty, usually found ourselves within Mary's 
 hospitable walls for an hour's chat and a sangaree. By 
 the way, that is a West Indian institution that somehow 
 seems to have faded with Emancipation and has given 
 place to cocktails, swizzles, juleps and other Yankee in- 
 novations ; but it was very pleasant of a blistering hot 
 afternoon to be seated in a well-shaded verandah, and 
 have a white-clad black fellow at your elbow with the 
 amber sherry or madeira in a big class, " mantled o'er" 
 with grated nutmeg, and the thin rind of a lime grace- 
 
The Major-General's Yarn. 303 
 
 fully curling over the brim and giving out a most de- 
 licious odour ; besides, there was no sangarees like Miss 
 Mary's. 
 
 At that time Mary Gordon was a tall, handsome woman. 
 Her splendid hair and eyes and her perfeft teeth excited 
 the admiration of the men and the envy of the women of 
 the place. She was about thirty-eight — at least she owned 
 to that — but one never got much information as to her 
 birth and origin, and our resped for her prevented our 
 asking impertinent questions. There were stories which 
 we hoped were untrue, or, at the worst, exaggerated, about 
 Miss Mary's earlier days ; and new arrivals as yet un- 
 learned in the ways and customs of the West, were greatly 
 scandalized at there being in her household a very at- 
 tractive young girl of eighteen who called Miss Mary 
 u mamma," and bore a name other than Gordon, for it 
 was Cassidy. Still, Miss Mary's honesty and good heart 
 and (at all events in recent years) irreproachable character 
 won her warm friends from the Governor down to the 
 youngest sub in the garrison, and in return Miss Mary 
 never allowed the good name of any of her favourites to 
 be impeached. Any backbiting of the sort she put down 
 with a firm hand, or at all events a stern tongue. It 
 cannot however be said that she was silent as to the 
 peccadilloes or shortcomings of her own enemies and 
 rivals, of which latter the lady who presided over the 
 opposition " Phoenix" was the chief. Mary's retentive 
 memory, aided by a somewhat a&ive imagination, was a 
 very armoury of offensive weapons which she brandished 
 and hurled on occasions with great effeA, and, to tell the 
 truth, it was not an uncommon pastime with us to • draw* 
 
304 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 our hostess, and beguile her into battering to pieces the 
 reputation of someone she disliked. Miss Mary on these 
 or other occasions, when excited, would give vent to her 
 feelings in pure Creole, although at ordinary times she 
 used precise, not to say prim language, and the transition 
 to a flood of broken English added all the more to our 
 enjoyment of the fun. I have often seen a negro slink 
 away perfe&ly cowed by one of Miss Mary's impassioned 
 addresses in the vernacular. 
 
 The principal room at Miss Mary's was a long scantily 
 furnished apartment opening on to a broad verandah 
 overlooking the bay. Its floor was bare, but scrubbed 
 and scraped as white as white could be. There was a 
 long table made up of many leaves of mahogany which 
 age and frequent polishing had made like ebony, and a 
 spindle-legged sideboard with drawers gaping from long 
 and rough usage, and covered with the oddest of all odd 
 lots of glassware. 
 
 Art was represented on one wall by a large portrait of 
 a military hero in a scarlet uniform, with very blue eyes 
 and sandy hair. The back ground was made up of 
 soldiers, horses and smoke. This was always declared 
 to be the likeness of the late Captain Cassidy — * my 
 papa' — as Miss Norah Cassidy called him or * poor Peter' 
 as her mother, when in a very confidential mood, des- 
 cribed him. The military records of the station did, I 
 believe, make mention of some such officer being at one 
 time quartered in Barataria, and there was a tradition 
 that a wild fellow of that name had been rescued from 
 debt and disgrace and death by Mary, and had rewarded 
 her with broken faith and desertion ; but to Mary he was 
 
The Major-General's Yarn. 305 
 
 still ' poor Peter/ and I have seen her big black eyes 
 swim with tears when she talked to me as she sometimes 
 did, about him. 
 
 There was another room which I remember, and this 
 was the drawing room, — a small apartment sacred to 
 Miss Mary and her daughter. I was rather overfurnished 
 and looked like a museum with its various ornaments. 
 There were shells from all parts of the world, small corals 
 from the Baratarian and other seas, large fan-like masses of 
 gorgonia, a cocoanut shell covered with barnacles that 
 had been washed ashore on the island, a shark's distended 
 jaws, and sea monsters more or less artistically stuffed 
 were among its principal curiosities, and there was a 
 piano, the maker of which had lived in a far remote 
 period. It was never in tune, and had suffered much 
 from the amateur tinkering of myself and others who 
 undertook to restore its failing powers. Norah however 
 used to extraft a good deal of music from it, and it 
 supplied the accompaniment to many a little ballad 
 which she used to sing to us. I can shut my eyes and 
 still see the little room and its queer contents and hear 
 the girl's contralto voice and — by Jove ! — smell the guava 
 jelly Miss Mary was always making, and the fumes of 
 which at times used to pervade the whole house. 
 
 I was then eighteen and an Ensign in the Buffs, a fair 
 haired boy fresh from school, very quiet and shy, and a 
 good deal teazed by my brother officers to whom my 
 rather unfortunate name, Theophilus Talavera Tompion, 
 was the subjeft of endless fun and ridicule. Of course it 
 was no fault of mine that I was christened after an uncle 
 from whom we had great but vain expectations, and that 
 
306 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 my father desired to conned his son's name with that of 
 the famous battle at which he lost his leg. On such 
 occasions, Miss Mary stood my champion and defender, 
 and would warn my assailants to " leave off badgering 
 Theophilus Talavera." She always in a motherly sort of 
 way called us by our Christian names. 
 
 I have said that Norah Cassidy was attra&tve ; to me 
 she was especially so, and no wonder, for I was of a sus- 
 ceptible age, while she was simply the most lovely girl 
 I had ever seen. Norah had the pliant, graceful figure 
 so peculiar to Creole girls. Her features without being 
 regular had a charm of their own, and whether in repose 
 when her dark violet eyes were half concealed by their 
 long lashes, or lit up with fun, with her musical laugh 
 rippling out from lips that — but there ! you will only 
 laugh at an old fogey trying to describe the girl who was 
 his idol long, long ago ! 
 
 I think we were all more or less in love with Norah, 
 except perhaps a young artillery sub of my own age 
 called Busby, who had been cruelly thrown over for an 
 elderly and somewhat inebriate Major by a siren of 
 twenty-eight, the daughter of the Controller of Customs 
 at St. Sangaree. Busby (Augustus was his christian 
 name) went moping about, bewailing his unhappy fate, 
 and was for a long time faithful to his cruel enchantress. 
 
 I used to think that Norah 1 cared a little for me, but I 
 could not be certain, and boy-like I was afraid to speak 
 out to her. Whenever I could, I sate by her side, and 
 tried to talk, but I was stupid and gauche, and if I caught, 
 as at first I often did, a glance of what I took to be 
 suppressed merriment at my diffidence, I used to blush 
 
The Major-General's Yarn. 307 
 
 and shut up. I never dared to ask her to come for a ride 
 or walk. Her mother and she too much respe&ed Mrs. 
 Grundy, and so my only chance was when Norah and I 
 if there were no guests in the house, used, to sit in the 
 little drawing room, singing duets out of an old well 
 thumbed book. Even then Miss Mary would keep popping 
 in and out of the room, or would bring her work, usually 
 consisting of house linen, to be marked or mended, and 
 keep us company. Again, if Miss Mary was otherwise 
 occupied, we were rarely alone ; there were almost always 
 people staying at the hotel, and my brother officers were 
 all fond of a little flirtation with Norah and took delight 
 in spoiling our t6te-£-tetes. Miss Mary, I suppose when 
 she heard us singing or laughing, felt that all was going 
 on corre&ly, and that Norah was safe without her presence 
 and prote&ion, but anyhow my love-making was difficult 
 work, until one day plucking up courage, I managed to 
 let Norah know how dear she was to me. 
 
 That day Mrs. Cavalry's hucksters came to Fort 
 Frederick, offering their wares to the do&or's wife and 
 the married women of the garrison. I may explain that 
 in those days shops there were none, only wholesale stores. 
 Mrs. Cavally was the wife of the President, and though a 
 Member of Council of that era would sooner have thought 
 of cutting your hair than selling you a single shirt, he 
 had no objection to his wife employing a string of black 
 girls who, tray on head, wandered all over the island 
 selling her goods. Mrs. Cavalry's Rosa had some brand 
 new jewellery to sell, and so at a price that made a big 
 hole in my month's pay, I bought a ring with a pearl in 
 it for Norah. 
 
308 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 That afternoon Busby and I rode down into the town 
 to the Hotel, and found Miss Mary downstairs standing 
 over a big pan of guavas which were boiling away on a 
 coal-pot. She was busy with two lady customers, and so 
 with a nod we went upstairs, where as luck would have it, 
 we found Norah in the drawing room alone. 
 
 Busby was good nature itself, and after some conversa- 
 tion he began to work away at the piano, keeping his 
 eyes like a discreet dear fellow straight before him, thun- 
 dering in his deep but indifferent bass whenever Norah 
 and I, who were seated on the sofa behind him, allowed 
 our voices to rise. I don't recoiled what we talked about, 
 but I managed to get possession of Norah's hand, and to 
 slip the ring on to her finger, when she made some little 
 fuss about it at first, but presently put up her face to 
 be kissed. 
 
 " Well ! well, my patience ! Theophilus Talavera ! 
 Norah ! You Miss !" and, in rushed Miss Mary ("preserve- 
 ladle in hand) with astonishment and a big smear of 
 smut on her features — " Go along to your room," and 
 she gave Norah a push — " Go along ! and you Theophilus 
 Talavera, and you Augustus Busby, sit down there," and 
 the ladle was pointed to two chairs. 
 
 " My dear Miss Mary," I began— 
 
 "Don't dear me, Theophilus, don't dear me, I am 
 ashamed of you." 
 
 "Perhaps I'd better leave you and Talavera, Miss 
 Mary," said Busby, and he sneaked out of the room. 
 
 " Ob, sonnie," said Miss Mary, flopping down on the 
 sofa beside me, " if any one been tell me you would have 
 behave so, I'd have tell them they lie. It is a real ad- 
 
The Major-General's Yarn. 309 
 
 vantage (egvantage she called it) you take of me ; my 
 father ! look my trial !" and she wrung her hands. 
 
 " But Miss Mary, I love Norah." 
 
 " My goodness, Theophilus, don't let me hear those 
 words come out from your mouth. You love her — yes 
 that is how the trouble come." 
 
 " There's no trouble. Of course, I know my pay is 
 not much, but we could wait, Miss Mary — we wouldn't 
 marry till I was" — 
 
 " You does know what you talk ?" and Miss Mary 
 shook her head and smiled. 
 
 "And why not?" said I " Norah's a dear good girl — 
 and she's clever, a deuced sight cleverer than most girls 
 — than Mrs. Fausip's (our doftor's wife) — and I'd try to 
 make her happy — I swear I would — " 
 
 " Yes buddie ! that's all very well, and if I was a 
 schemer sort of woman like that wretch there" and she 
 jerked her thumb in the direction of the hotel over the 
 way, "I'd have said yes, and perhaps as poor Peter 
 always said his family were Kings in Ireland once, 
 Norah's as good by her father as most girls, — but no, 
 buddie ! Chicken hawk never build nest with ground 
 dove ! no that you are hawk, Theophilus — I don't mean 
 so — but you know you family — you uncle Sir John and 
 them, how they like to hear you marry a girl who, good 
 as she be, have for mother, this poor sinner — Miss Mary 
 as keep a hotel ? and God forgive me she no lawful born 
 — no, sonnie ! beggin you paFdon, you is a fool but that 
 no make me a villain. Don't cut me in, Theophilus 
 Talavera ! hear me discourse and consider to youself — " 
 
310 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 " I have considered, Miss Mary — I have thought of it 
 — of nothing else for weeks past." 
 
 " You think Norah could be comfortable with all them 
 big fashioned people in England ? I must think for she, 
 Buddie, and I no able to let she be ashamed." 
 
 " But " 
 
 " No, my son ! this 'ting must stop. Poor as I be, 
 t'ank God I am able to see what is right — what is best 
 for my child — and for you too, sonnie." 
 
 " Miss Mary," said I, " I don't think you are right — 
 I don't, indeed.'* 
 
 " I don't t'ink either, me friend — I know — " and she 
 rose from the sofa. 
 
 " Look me good, sonnie. 'Member I ask you — I beg 
 you — do — don't you see Norah any more — little bit more 
 and you forget em — don't tell me no — young people 
 heart like sand at bay side, you go scratch name in em, 
 first wave come wash em out — and now, go — look you 
 hat— there, buddie ! — come ! — go." 
 
 Miss Mary went on in this way for a long while, 
 without allowing me to speak half-a-dozen consecutive 
 words, and there was therefore no resisting, so at last she 
 led me out of the room and down the stairs till I found 
 myself at the door. 
 
 " I must see Norah ! Miss Mary— I couldn't live if I 
 did not." 
 
 " Theophilus Talavera !" she replied, " I don't say no, 
 as to your seeing her again, but not now — I must first see 
 she and have discourse with she. Another day — and now 
 please go." 
 
 She took up her station at her guava jelly which had 
 
The Major-General's Yarn. 311 
 
 been in the meanwhile under the care of a half-clad black 
 imp, and stirred it round and round with a grave air, 
 slowly shaking her head as if it were some terrible witch- 
 brew she was compounding, and I — well there was no 
 use my stopping — so off I went very sheepish and per- 
 plexed towards the Garrison. 
 
 The next day, or day after that, I think, it was, the 
 Colonel put me in orders to go to Barbados in charge of 
 some men in the place of another officer. I was of course 
 much annoyed at any arrangement which removed me 
 from Barataria and Norah, but I dared not rebel. I did 
 not know, by the way, until long after that Miss Mary 
 had got hold of my Colonel, told him the whole story of 
 my love for her daughter, and besought him to get me 
 out of the way. However, I was informed that the packet 
 might arrive any hour, and so I set to work to get all 
 ready. 
 
 As to going without an interview — a parting word with 
 Norah, that was out of the question. I arranged after a 
 good deal of manoeuvring to meet her as she went to 
 evening church. A tete-d-t£te in the street was not to be 
 thought of, so I had secured the services of a mulatto 
 boy whose boat was a safe and comfortable little craft. 
 Everything went well. I intercepted Norah and her little 
 black attendant on their way, and we three stepped un- 
 observed into the boat, which Julius had prudently brought 
 ashore, where the shadow of the hill on which the Fort 
 was perched fell darkest on the beach* It was a lovely 
 night. There was a moon and it seemed to me as if I 
 had never seen the bay and its back ground of tall richly 
 clad hills look more attractive. The batteries above us 
 
312 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 stood out sharp and clear against the sky. I could almost 
 see our sentries as they paced to and fro. The houses on 
 the beach were lit up by the soft rays, and here and there 
 lights shone from them. The music and the bells from 
 the churches and chapels floated in a dreamy way across 
 the water, and so with Jane Ann curled up in the bow, 
 and Julius sculling in a desultory way so as to keep his 
 boat as much as possible under the overhanging cliff, 
 Norah and I sat and whispered — well, if you like — non- 
 sense to each other. Of course, we promised and vowed 
 all sorts of things — constancy and never dying remem- 
 brance, and above all a determination to overcome all 
 obstacles to our union. In this, as it now seems, very 
 ridiculous way we talked, and the boat drifted on and on, 
 till we came to the low rocks which once formed part of 
 the cliff Which was the eastern boundary of the bay, but 
 had fallen in a rugged heap at its foot. Then there was 
 a sudden confusion, and a cry, — a large boat with five or 
 six pullers shot round the point and before Julius could 
 get out of his way, it crashed against us. I really did 
 not know what happened after, only that Norah and I 
 clung to each other as we sank into the dark chilly waters 
 ~-I did all I could to keep her and myself afloat — I 
 managed to get her near the rocks — and felt her drawn 
 from my clasp — then a rough hand was laid on me, but I 
 recollected no more. To cut it short, it seems I had 
 saved Norah's life, though, if the men in the other boat 
 had not helped to haul her and myself on to the rocks we 
 must have gone. They took me to the town, and Miss 
 Mary insisted on my being put into her best bed then 
 and there. I had fever, which, in a few days developed 
 
The Major-General's Yarn. 313 
 
 into genuine Yellow Jack. They did all sorts of things 
 to me. I believe I was bled, blistered, dosed in every 
 possible way ; I know they shaved my head. Miss Mary 
 never left me, and they say but for her and Norah, I could 
 not have pulled through. The attack left me fearfully 
 weak, and I remember as if it was yesterday, when Miss 
 Mary came to my bed side with tears of joy running 
 down her brown cheeks, and thanked God I was out of 
 danger. Then she brought forward Norah, and at her 
 mother's bidding, she bent down and kissed me. I didn't 
 know it was the last time I should ever see her. 
 
 They packed me off as soon as they could to England. 
 Miss Mary first gave me a scolding for my nearly losing 
 the lives of Norah and myself, and then with as tender a 
 leave-taking as if she had been my own mother, prayed 
 God to bless me, and asked me never to forget her. 
 
 " Never ! dear Miss Mary," I said, M never — but Norah, 
 where is she ?" 
 
 " Sonnie ! never you mind, where Norah be, she be." 
 The boat shoved off, and I could ask no more questions. 
 Afterwards, I used to write to Miss Mary, but I never got 
 a reply, and so in time, my recolle&ion of Barataria, and 
 my pretty Norah almost died out ; and, then you know, I 
 married the present Lady Tompion. 
 
 Well, years rolled on, and brought their wonderful events 
 and changes. By the death of my uncle, the Baronetcy 
 came to me. Years and years after, I was appointed 
 Governor-in-Chief of the islands of which Barataria is 
 one. Of course I was glad to see the old place once 
 more, though all the fellows who were in garrison with 
 me then, were dead and gone, save some two or three, 
 
 2 R 
 
314 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 and they were scattered over the world. Still, the lovely 
 island and its well remembered barracks and fort were 
 interesting obje&s as H.M.S. steamed in, one mid- 
 day some four years ago. I had Lady Tompion and the 
 girls on deck, and pointed out to them the several points 
 of interest. 
 
 It was a good deal changed, there was no garrison 
 there, and the hill below the barracks, once so trimly 
 kept, was overgrown. Through my glass I could see 
 that the batteries were no longer armed, while the build- 
 ings looked worn and dilapidated. In the town, too, the 
 houses had gone to decay, though there still seemed some 
 little life in the place, and one or two of the stores I re- 
 collected appeared to be yet tenanted and busy. 
 
 There's always a lot of fuss landing at these places 
 officially. A governor has to wait until an inspector of 
 police or some civilian A.D.C. in a nondescript uniform 
 clambers awkwardly on deck, and in a half-shy, half-con- 
 ceited way goes with a sword he doesn't know how to 
 manage, clinkety clankety all over the deck in search of 
 " the Governor ;" and one's own Private Secretary, in my 
 case, was never ready, being always chatting and chaffing 
 with one of my girls. Then you're " Your Excellencied" 
 and asked when Your Excellency will land, and how long 
 Your Excellency will stay, &c, &c, all of which I used to 
 cut very short I assure you, — in fa&, these chaps generally 
 found me reading a newspaper, and got my replies like 
 minute guns. I've no doubt they thought me pompous 
 and all that, but it taught them discipline. 
 
 On the occasion I'm talking about, I had to get into 
 my full fig, and the Captain sent us ashore in his barge 
 
The Major-General's Yarn. 315 
 
 with a Union Jack at the bow. As we left the ship, they 
 banged a salute, and as I landed, bang went the guns 
 from a small battery they hadn't dismantled. They didn't 
 do it badly either, not, of course, as it was done in the 
 old days, but still very creditably fo? a set of policemen. 
 Then my Lieut. Governor in his official blue and gold 
 received me, and I had presented to me all the local 
 people, old chaps that never been out of the island, 
 some of them in clothes that might have been built a 
 score of years ago, and one with a white felt hat and big 
 bulgy white cotton umbrella ; I had to grin and shake 
 hands, and appear as if they were each of them a long 
 lost brother. Then a second boat brought miladi and the 
 girls, and another introduction had to be gone through. 
 Some wanted to shake hands, but trust my lady for that ! 
 She knew her position, and so just gave them one of her 
 bows and icy smiles — I know them — and our friends 
 drew back. However, we in time started to walk to the 
 Lieutenant Governor's Office to wait for his carriage 
 which wasn't forthcoming. Very often the carriage is not, 
 and he has to borrow from some one in the place as was 
 the case on this occasion, when our party was rather 
 large. Then, we formed a sort of procession. I went 
 first with Bagges my Secretary ; and then came Lady 
 Tompion and the Lieutenant Governor ; the girls and 
 some officers from the ship completed our party ; and of 
 course, we were followed by a small mob of the local 
 people. I had determined when all this parade was over, 
 to seek out my old friend Miss Mary, who I heard, still 
 kept the hotel, but had suffered from the change of for- 
 tune which had come over Barataria, and to which the 
 
316 West Indian Yarns. 
 
 withdrawal of the Garrison had contributed ; but my in- 
 tentions were frustrated, for as we passed the old well 
 remembered doorway, who should rush out, but Miss 
 Mary, grown very stout and grey, but still wearing a 
 handkerchief tied *as jauntily as in the old days. She 
 stepped in front of me, gave one long steadfast look, and 
 crying " Me God ! Theophilus Talavera ; you come to 
 bless these old eyes before me dead. Ah ! Sonnie !" and 
 quite disregarding our altered circumstances, and ignoring 
 my official position, she flung her arms round my neck 
 and kissed me in a most — well — embarrassing way. I 
 couldn't remonstrate, I was so taken aback, besides being 
 mortified at the ridiculous figure I must have made— my 
 cocked hat had fallen off — and the nigger boys yelled 
 with delight, while to complete all, her ladyship rushed 
 up and in her deepest, severest tone said, " Tompion ! 
 Sir Theophilus Tompion, may I ask who this is ?" 
 
 " Beg pardon ma'am," said Miss Mary quitting me and 
 curtseying to my wife, " beg pardon ; but when Theo- 
 philus Talavera been here in the Buffs, he like my own 
 pickney, and I never, never see him till now. Excuse my 
 feelings, ma'am." But it was evident that Lady Tompion 
 did not excuse poor Miss Mary, from the manner in which, 
 after observing to me ■ If Your Excellency has quite done 
 with this interesting person, we will proceed,' she swept 
 past my old friend. 
 
 " Good morning" said I, raising my hat which a small 
 boy had handed me, "good morning, Miss Gordon — 
 glad to see you looking well." 
 
 " Morning, Miss Gordon !" Miss Mary repeated as she 
 retreated a pace or two, holding up her hands. — Morning ! 
 
The Major-General's Yarn. 317 
 
 and that all! Well! Well! Theophilus Talavera! you 
 do right, Sonnie, you no more the boy as swear you 
 never forget me nor my poor dead Norah, you Governor 
 now — big man — but I 'sped you got Governor over you. 
 Well ! well ! Morning you Excellency, Morning Missis" 
 — and she dropped us a very low curtsey and then strode 
 off to her door. 
 
 I am sorry to say I did not see her again ; but Lady 
 Tompion raised some obje&ions, and perhaps she was 
 right. Her ladyship reminded me, that evening after we 
 had retired to bed, that * one of the chief duties of 
 exalted rank is to discipline one's emotions, and to subor- 
 dinate to the exigencies of one's position, every impulse 
 which may lead to inconvenient or derogatory results/ 
 
 But still I should have liked to have seen old Mary 
 once more, and asked her about her poor dead Norah. 
 
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