Ill 



ISLANDS 



With thrice seven-league boots one could 

 stride from the coast of the United States and 

 with a dozen steps reach British Guiana dry- 

 shod. From an aviator's seat, the chain of West 

 Indies, Windward and Leeward Islands curves 

 gracefully southwards, like stepping-stones 

 across a Japanese stream. If, corresponding to 

 this annihilation of space, we could abbreviate 

 minutes, hours and days as in a moving-picture 

 film, we might have the edifying spectacle of 

 our steamer's trip reduced to a succession of 

 loops, ricochetting from island after island, as 

 a stone skips along the surface of the water, 

 sliding along those dotted lines which are so 

 characteristic a feature of coasts in our school 

 geographies, and coming to rest at last with a 

 splash in the muddy current off the Georgetown 

 stelling. 



Our steamer is preferable to the seven-league 



