A LOST FEBRUARY 



most common vine by the roadside everywhere in 

 Jamaica is a wild morning-glory of many colors, 

 similar to our own, but growing far more luxuri- 

 antly, and the crimson bougainvillea. 



As you pass along the country highways, you 

 come to have a half-defined feeling that some time 

 in the past there must have been a huge greenhouse 

 here that has gone to decay, and that the plants and 

 shrubs and vines have all escaped and gone wild, 

 invading the fields and woods, and running over 

 the banks and fences. Tender exotics that one sees 

 at home carefully nursed in the windows by our 

 women are here the common weeds by the road- 

 side. 



This trip into the interior lasted five days, tak- 

 ing us through the wilder, ruggeder portions of the 

 island for about eighty miles, ending on the railroad 

 at Balaclava. It brought us pretty close to the real 

 life of the people, and, a few times, a little closer to 

 wild nature than was conducive to our comfort. 

 Touch Nature too famiharly here, — sit down by 

 the roadside, or recline under a tree, — and she pep- 

 pers you with a kind of hve pepper in the shape 

 of minute ticks, called also grass lice, that pene- 

 trate your clothing and make you bum and itch, 

 until by the aid of your companions you have re- 

 moved the last adhesive speck from your skin. 

 These living germs take root very quickly, and if 

 left, grow to the size of a small bean. They prey 



