28 



THE CANADIAN HOKTICDLTURIST. 



large. One was pointed out to us as 

 comprising one hundred acres, and con- 

 taining ten thousand orange trees, the 

 fi'uit from which in one season sold for 

 twelve thousand dollars. There were 

 no oranges on the trees that we could 

 discover as we passed ; the harvest 

 season was some months ago. and these 

 golden apples had doubtless been long 

 since converted into golden coin. The 

 houses that we could see among the 

 orange groves seemed small as compared 

 with those on the sugar plantations, 

 and the negro cabins were wanting. 



This cultivated l)elt extends for about 

 sixty miles below New Orleans, running 

 back on both sides of the river to a 

 depth of about half a mile. Beyond and 

 below this what land there is cannot 

 be cultivated, it is mere swamp and sea 

 marsh, and floating prairie, whose hard 

 bottom has not yet been discovered. 

 Within this arable strip on each side of 

 the river there is grown a considerable 

 quantity of figs, and small quantities of 

 lemons, citrons, bananas, and occasion- 

 ally the pomegranate and persimmon. 



Late in the afternoon we passed out 

 of the river and turned our course nearly 

 due east across the gulf. Night comes 

 suddenly in this southern latitude. We 

 were scarce out of sight of land when 

 the darkness shut us in. The next day 

 was beautifully bright, the sky without 

 a cloud, a strong breeze just rippled the 

 water, which broke in a white foam 

 from the steamer's bow as it ploughed 

 its eastward track. At noon our captain 

 took his observations and reported oui- 

 position to be in latitude 28° 59' north, 

 longitude 85'' 39' west from Green- 

 wich, the thermometer indicating 70° 

 Fahrenheit. When night came on, and 

 the " sentinel stars set their watch in 

 the sky," we looked for our familiar 

 northern constellations. They were 

 bright as ever, but strangely low down 

 towards the horizon, thus intimating to 

 us that we were far from home. And 



now the water broke from our steamer's 

 bow in waves that sparkled with phos- 

 phorescent light. It was a novel sight to 

 a landsman. This morning the day 

 broke bright and clear, and we threaded 

 our way among the rocky islands as 

 soon as there was light enough to find 

 the channel, and tied up to the pier at 

 Cedar Key. It was an unusual thing, 

 so said our captain, for him to reach 

 Cedar Key in time to connect with the 

 morning train : but we were fortunate. 

 The village of Cedar Key seems to 

 be a very small, quiet, dreary sort of 

 place, whose most conspicuous objects 

 are two hotels, on one of which we 

 could read in large lettei-s the words 

 " The Suwanee." At once there came 

 floating thi-ough the memory the long 

 forgotten 



'Wiiy down upon de Swaiiee ribber, 



Far, far away ; 

 Dere's wliere my heart is turning ebber, 



Dere's where de old folks stay. 

 All up and down de whole creation. 



Sadly I roam, 

 Still longing for de old plantation. 



And for de old folks at home. 

 All de world am sad and dreary, 



Ebery wliere I roam ; 

 Oh, darkeys, how my heart grows weary. 



Far from de old folks at liome. 



We had little opportunity to examine 

 this little place, built upon an island, 

 the gulf terminus of the Florida Transit 

 Railway, for our train was soon at the 

 wharf to i-eceive us, and we were on 

 our way again. We afterwards learned 

 that on one of the pretty islands that 

 stud the entrance to Cedar Key, the 

 Faber Brothers have a saw mill and 

 machine shop which give employment 

 to quite a colony in preparing cedar 

 wood for the well known Faber lead 

 pencils. 



The country through which we passed 

 for some time after leaving Cedar Key 

 was mostly covered with tall pines of 

 very slender growth, without branches 

 save just near the top. The variety 



