THE PLANT WORLD 31. 



pumpkin or squash and flavored with lemons from my garden ; and 

 throughout the dinner, in place of potatoes (which can not be grown here), 

 yams and taro. Everything went off finely. Susana was a most import- 

 ant personage. She took it upon herself to carve the venison (much to 

 my relief) and serve the coffee (which she had toasted herself and ground 

 on a stone metate). 



After dinner we sent for two of Don Jose's sons, who brought a man- 

 dolin and guitar and their father's fiddle. The table was cleared and I 

 got out my zither. Don Jose's youngest boy, Jesus, also came and 

 danced a fandango for us most gracefully. Just as the Major came home 

 we had struck up " Oh, Susana, Don't You Cry for Me " ; and the Major 

 laughingly said: "Susana, that song is about you." Whereupon 

 Susana was overcome with embarrassment and left for the kitchen. There 

 I found her a short while afterwards washing dishes. She had pressed 

 my orderly into service to wipe them for her. I told her that everything 

 had been fine and that I was proud of her. The dulces were especially 

 good, the pumpkin as fine as apple-sauce. She said : "just wait, senor, 

 until the lemoncitos are ripe; I '11 make you some fine marmalade." 

 These are the berries of Triphasia trifoliata, the bushes which overgrow 

 my hill-top ranch. Their flowers are as sweet as jasmines and their 

 fruit has the flavor of Curasao liqueur. 



I now have two fine ranches of my own. I have built a little coconut- 

 thatched house on the one overlooking San Ramon, on the spot which I 

 chose during my first walk with Don Jose Herrero. The view from it is 

 very fine — the wide expanse of water in the distance, the white line of 

 breakers marking the barrier reef, the pale blue lagoon, the fringe of 

 coconut palms along the beach, and the thatched and tiled roofs of the 

 city below me variegated with plenty of growing trees and shrubs. My 

 little green-and-red house smiles up at me from across the Plaza de 

 Magellanes. When Susana wishes one of the boys from the ranch she 

 has only to hang a table-cloth from the window as a signal. Down below 

 me on the right rises the tile-capped belfry of the old church near which 

 is the house of Father Palomo. Across the great marsh, to the eastward, 

 I can see my other ranch, also on a hill, with two clumps of coconuts 

 growing upon it. Behind me the land slopes into a valley and rises 

 again. Near the bottom of the hill beyond the valley I have a small hut 

 where my man lives who cultivates a little garden I have started there. 

 I visit my ranches daily, going to the foot of the precipice, across the 

 marsh, on my wheel, and climbing the steep escarpment by the aid of 

 life-lines of banyan roots. I like to feed the chickens myself. They 

 usually come running to meet me and follow me when I go. I often 

 have to chase them back. Nothing more beautiful than this island could 

 be imagined ; and no one could wish for more pleasant occupation nor 

 for kinder friends. Above all, I feel it a privilege to be engaged in 

 work which really counts — work in which I can be of some use to people 

 who need me. 



[to be continued.] 



