LEAVES FROM A LOG. No. IV. 



THERE are few situations more uncomfortable than that of the 

 luckless mortal who lies in bed in the West Indies, and ineffectually 

 tries to sleep the climate will not allow the use of the soft beds of 

 Europe ; a horse-hair mattress is more cool certainly, but less agree- 

 able during a sleepless night, to turn upon from side to side. This I 

 did like the Spanish saint, who when broiled on a gridiron requested 

 from time to time to be turned, in order that every part of his body 

 might equally partake of the pleasures of martyrdom. " When we 

 cannot sleep by lying still, it is useless to turn," says a modern au- 

 thor ; this is most reasonable, yet we cannot help it in spite of reason. 

 When I got into a snug position, and began to perceive the ap- 

 proaches of the poppy-crowned god, I was so rejoiced at it that I 

 started wide awake with delight, and then would I hopelessly take 

 another turn ; all this time 100,000,000 musquitos were phleboto- 

 mising me, actually triumphing over my misery, and with loud and 

 continued huzzas (so to me their buzz sounded) cheered each other * 

 on to the attack. 



Coy slumbers that require too much courting are seldom pleasing ; 

 mine were anything but agreeable. Methought that the hideous phan- 

 tom of Quaco stalked before me ; the spectre's dark and bloated fea- 

 tures looked most vengeful his cocoa nut-formed head wore a 

 wreath of the poisonous flowers in one hand he held a 'spatch 

 cock,* and in the other a tray on which stood two large rummers, 

 containing sangaree and porter cup. if You GO TO BED TO-MORROW 

 NIGHT WITHOUT YOUR DINNER," said the spectre, and he seated him- 

 self on my breast. I felt like a wretch who was undergoing the 

 te peines fortes et dures" in the press-yard. In vain I attempted to 

 dislodge the ponderous demon from my bosom. I groaned aloud, 

 when I thought Quaco seized me by the shoulder and shook me vio- 

 lently with a start I woke, and horror seized me as I felt the grasp 

 on my shoulder and the violent shaking a reality. 



" Wha de matter wid you, massa?" said a well-known voice. 



Who is this ? Ah ! is it you, Jack ?" 



The fact is, the negro who was watchman for the night, heard me 

 groan beneath the influence of the night-mare, and as I generally slept 

 with my chamber-door open, he came into my room, and by shaking 

 awoke me. The waning moon had risen high in the calm blue con- 

 cave of heaven, and the black clouds in the east bordered with fire, 

 informed me that the brief twilight would soon appear. 



The sugar-mill was already in motion, and the boiling-house 

 chimney sent forth volumes of smoke. The boiler-man's shout, which 

 told the stoker to increase the heat of the coppers, and the stoker's 

 gruff reply, mingled with the chorus of the mill-gang who were 



* A fowl broiled in hastu is called dispatch or 'spatch cock. 



