WHALING AND BEAR-HUNTING 141 



hatch behind, at which lolls the cook, a jovial sort of unshaved 

 burly pirate, with, of course, a cigarette, but veritably a chef. 

 And behind the desk, 

 sometimes for a moment 

 or two, is your host, a 

 highly polished Sancho 

 Panza ; here is a jotting 

 of him. He speaks a little 

 French and gives you pro- 

 vender fit for the gods. I 

 mention this place as cafes 

 are rare things here, for 

 the people as a rule feed 

 at home. 



Into this haven I came 

 one night after the spell 

 at sea of salt beef and 

 margarine, and who can 

 tell the contrasting charm 



of the crisp rolls and real butter and vino tinto ! And 

 as I rested and made furtive notes of the patron there 

 came music from above or some room near a piano of early 

 nineteenth century or was it a spinet or guitar playing the 

 air of one of Moore's melodies. 



" All that's bright must fade, the brightest still the fleetest, 

 All that's sweet was made but to be lost when sweetest.' 1 



It is used in Indian as a bearer's tune, and these are what 

 I can recall of the words from the long ago. It's a sweet air 

 and surely the words are distressful enough to make a young 

 man sad, and an old man smile. I wonder what Portuguese 

 words the fair (I mean dark) beauty next the Atlantico 

 put to the air I must call again. Some of these native 

 women are very pretty, but they are much more guarded 

 in the use of their eyes than are their Spanish cousins. 

 There's a queer dress some of them, mostly the seniors, wear 

 out-of-doors ; when they come out, which is very seldom. 

 Here is a jotting of it on the next page it is of dark 

 blue cloth. The younger generation wear rather neat 



