226 ST. JAGO. 



the firmament, one end buried in the ocean, and the 

 other lost behind the rugged mountains of St. Jago. On 

 strolling through the village, nothing, at first sight, 

 amused me so much as the astonishing number of little, 

 pot-bellied, naked children, sprawling about the sandy 

 thoroughfares ; groups of young, black girls, dressed up 

 in gaudy shawls, and, in many cases, smoking short 

 pipes, contributed materially to the strangeness of the 

 scene ; while itinerant fruit-venders, ugly negroes " things 

 of shreds and patches ", shouting their unintelligible 

 jargon, put the finishing touch to the picture. The 

 doctrines of Malthus appear here to be utterly disre- 

 garded, and the place literally swarms with children. 

 The negro-mother bears her living burden on her hip, 

 supported by a broad and padded band, one of the 

 urchins' legs being before and one behind. The counte- 

 nance of these young Ethiops is most amusing and 

 grotesque ; they are always very solemn in their look, 

 and their sloe-black eyes gleam keenly all around, save 

 when you notice or caress them, when they hide their 

 tiny heads in apprehension and alarm. Before they well 

 can hobble on their legs, the heavens form their only 

 roof and God their only safeguard. Often have I seen 

 them sprawling on the ground, licked by dogs, pawed 

 by playful cats, kicked by careless goats, and sometimes 

 sorely pecked by saucy fowls ; covered with dust, and 

 scrambling on its belly, the little creature strains and 

 giggles, striving to approach its mute companions, poor 

 thing, as mute itself and helpless as the worst of them ! 



Strolling along the beach I noticed the large, hideous 

 Sea-slug (Aplysia), and the cunning Octopus, the manners 



