34 Sarrorp: NoTEs OF A NATURALIST AFLOAT—III 
to get ashore. I remember the apple-green stretches of 
sugar cane, as we steamed along the north coast back to 
the entrance of San Juan harbor; the little huts nestling 
under palm trees along the shore; the schools of flying- 
fish which scurried out of the way of the pilot boat that 
came out to meet us, like grasshoppers from the path of 
a rambler through summer fields; the consequential lit- 
tle Spanish pilot who did not know a word of English, 
for whom I was obliged to act as interpreter; the vener- 
able Castillo del Morro, guarding the narrow entrance 
_ to the landlocked harbor; the swarm of bumboats coming 
out to sell us “chinas” and “guineos,” which we found 
_ out to be new names for oranges and bananas; the high, 
_ Inassive walls surrounding the ancient city, founded by | 
- Ponce de Leon more than a hundred years before the 
landing of the Pilgrim Fathers. 
- can recall now the peculiar sensation I felt as we 
paved streets” ‘and the cries of the street venders; the 
S ie with | their black mantillas and their attendant © 
og maids or chaperons; the politeness of our barefoot negro _ 
= "Buide, who fined the feet” of every old colored woman 
wee : of inner courts, or patios, through 
i ‘the: doors of the square whitewashed or blue-washed 
a ous black coffee and the white unsalted — 
: butter | at the hotel: the excursion on the little tramway 
to the suburban village of Rio Piedras, with its clumps 
and bananas; the Spanish soldiers in the — 
sh players at the theater, who sang 
and danced graceful “boleras;” the 
islar ders i in the cafes and dance h halls 
