/IDs Xiaiinter ©arCen 



the white sand-paths ' leading from house 

 to house amid well-kept pear-orchards and 

 dusky fig-clumps. They nearly all have 

 the Latin volatility we expect in Creoles, 

 singing on their way, not unfrequently 

 with a joyous timbre and a bird-like care- 

 lessness in their voices. The young girls 

 are sweet, after a fashion, and the youths 

 have a certain debonair cast of face and a 

 lightness of bearing which somehow can- 

 not be quite reconciled with the main 

 features of their decidedly limited lives. 

 A few, better to do than the rest, are 

 educated, have been to Paris for some 

 years of school and gaiety ; but even they 

 bear about them a something like a 

 drapery of the long ago — their personal 

 atmosphere attending them always, giving 

 a very romantic effect of hazy distance and 

 dim perspective. 



In looking over our garden paling at 

 the little world abutting us, we witness 

 many things which impress our lives with 

 memorable light sketches. These deli- 

 cious people — the phrase comes nearest 

 the true description — these delicious 

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