Forty Years Life in Tropical Gardens. 287 



They taught ine, among other things, that a bread-fruit required more than 

 baking to turn into a crusty loaf, as I had been told on board ship ! In 

 emphatic patois they told me how to make guava jelly clear, firm and 

 bright, the many uses of farine, the delicacy of " palm " cabbage, the 

 leaves that were good for healing and making tisane for fever and pain. 

 I have reason to remember them gratefully and have passed on their 

 wisdom to hundreds of amateurs. 



The sundry allowances were generous, plenty of good milk from 

 Government House cows, fruit of all kinds in great abundance. I do not 

 think there was ever a time when there was not something that could be 

 made into jam or "confiture." Best of all, we were rarely without large 

 and juicy carambolas ; we liked them better than anything else, raw, 

 stewed for puddings, or preserved, and do still. I experimented with 

 everything, making many mistakes, but I learnt. One mistake was laugh- 

 able. I had told my servant to put on some "gooseberries " to boil and 

 when soft I would add the sugar. She put them on in an iron skillet 

 used for roasting coffee. I did not put sugar to those gooseberries, but 

 the juice stained our floors beautifully ! 



In the mango orchard not far from our house all the best (of that 

 time) were grown. The " peach,'' " strawberry " and " Peters " hold their 

 places in our memory. Yes — 



" We remember in days now far, far away, 

 The swift eager rush in the dawn's rosy light, 

 Thro' the dew-laden grass to our favourite tree 

 To see it" a ' Peters ' had fall'n in the night. 



No matter that ' Gordons ' lay thick in our path, 



We cared not for them, and with scorn passed them by ; 



'Twas ' Peters ' we wanted and ' Peters ' we got, 



And e'en now we look back on those feasts with a sigh.'' 



Since then I have eaten many delicious mangoes, but except (to my 

 mind) the unmatchable "No. 11 " I remember none better than those 

 in the Trinidad orchard. 



No one who has only seen the litchee in dry form can imagine 

 what a lovely sight it is growing like bunches of scarlet waxen straw- 

 berries among dark green leaves. When freshly gathered the fruit tastes 

 like a Muscat grape. 



In time our house was renovated and made very cosy for us, only 

 alas ! to be burned to the ground in 1875 through the carelessness of a 

 servant. My husband was in town at the time and did not arrive till all 

 was over. In saving my two babies and trying to get some valuable papers 

 I was terribly burned about the head and hands. The Hon. and Mrs. J. 

 Scott Bushe, who lived near, came at once to our help and fed and clothed 

 us till I could use my hands (we were reduced to absolute beggary"). 

 Till we left Trinidad they never missed a chance of doing us a kindness. 

 I may say the same of dear old Bishop Rawle. Of the many friends who 

 helped us in our dire need I think Mr. John M'Carthy is the only one left 



