"INAGUA IS A QUEER LITTLE ISLAND" 67 



see this strange thing, this pine tree decorated with red and 

 blue and golden spangles. Still another Christmas came to mind 

 when I had deserted the family fireside, had loaded a canoe 

 with tent and blanket and axe and had departed in the midst 

 of a drifting snow storm in the heart of a great Eastern swamp. 

 Though the wind blew in great gusts and the snow piled deep 

 on the cat-tails and the leaves of the giant trees billowed to 

 the ground in brown mounds, that was the most peaceful 

 Christmas of all, for on the wings of the wind a certain content- 

 ment crept into my body, a satisfaction born of the beauty of 

 wood and meadowland, of singing flakes and the rustling of 

 long dead marsh grass. Once Christmas had come upon me far 

 out to sea in a dirty, rolling fishing trawler, and that was a 

 somber day when through all the hours we fought a gray cold 

 sea and strove to haul nets and sort sodden, sharp-scaled fish. 



But this was the strangest Christmas, this day when Coleman 

 and I, perched on the deck of Daxon's boat, rode slowly into 

 Mathewtown roads. Presently the noise of the serenaders faded 

 into the back streets and then ceased as abruptly as it had be- 

 gun. Daxon told us that it was the custom thus to usher in 

 the Christmas season; every morning at sunrise and every eve- 

 ning at sunset the spirit of Christmas was serenaded for several 

 weeks. What a strange habit, I thought, but then recollected 

 that at that very moment, miles to the north, owners of depart- 

 ment stores and haberdasheries were hiring professional choirs 

 to sing carols on their door steps— mercenary hymns in the hope 

 of attracting trade. They, too, were serenading Christmas, the 

 music more sophisticated— but there came the gentle reminder 

 that the makers of the frightful din ashore expected nothing 

 more of the racket than the pleasure they had in making it. 



My Christmas reveries were broken short by the swish of 

 oars from a rowboat approaching from the beach. Sitting in 

 the stern was a heavy jowled black man holding a furled um- 



