THK PlyANT WORLD 169 



But with all his piety he was a great admirer of the fair sex. My mother's 

 second husband was Don lyuis Portusach. When he died he left money 

 in trust to my mother for the benefit of their son, my half brother, 

 Joaquin Portusach. This money was placed in the hands of the Governor, 

 Don Francisco, who, to prevent its being spent, bought this place 

 from Padre Ciriaco. It was a good house then, strong and well con- 

 structed ; but in the course of years the roof decayed and the timbers 

 were taken away and used elsewhere. I remember the deed of convey- 

 ance. It began like this : ' Yo, Ciriaco del Espiritu Santo, vendo a los 

 herederos de lyuis Portusach una casa de piedra con cocal por la cantidad 

 de 425 pesos. ' After the death of Portusach my mother married Francisco 

 Salar, from Murcia in Spain. He was a brave man, afraid of nobody, 

 and in Spain was so defiant of the laws that they exiled him to this 

 island. Though he had little or no education he was a man of great 

 intelligence. He behaved so well that he soon won the respect of every- 

 body. I realize now what he did for me, though he used to make me 

 work so hard that I wished he would drop dead. I used to love to play 

 the fiddle and guitar and hated to study ; but he realized the disadvantage 

 of growing up without an education, and he made my brothers and 

 myself study hard. Blessed be God! " 



The tobacco in the low valleys is now in good condition. The corn 

 crop in the valley of Tarofofo, which was flowing with water at the time 

 of my visit last November, is turning out very well. We are now hav- 

 ing fine weather with only occasional light showers. The wind is con- 

 stantly from the northeast (steady trades) and we are in the midst of 

 what is called the dry season. 



On our return we stopped for a while at Don Jose's hill-top ranch, 

 where we got a refreshing drink from a green coconut. We found Don 

 Jose's daughter, Doiia Maria, in the little chapel which had been con- 

 structed on the ranch, saying her rosary before a simple cross of wood. 

 She had been feeding her chickens and had stopped a while to pray. The 

 air was filled with the perfume of aroma (^Acacia far^iesiayia) , sweet as 

 honey. From Don Jose's ranch the view of the town below us was lovely 

 with its red tiled roofs and plumy coconut trees and the turquoise lagoon 

 beyond. My own little green and red house smiled up at me from 

 across the plaza, and I though I could distinguish my good Susana look- 

 ing out of one of the windows as though she were waiting to see me 

 coming before getting ready the chocolate. 



[to be continued.] 



