SOME SUMMER DAYS IN MARTINIQUE. 283 
nate, positions like this, where, with a salary of fifteen 
hundred dollars, each year calls upon the incumbent 
of the office for an expenditure of at least two 
thousand. The British consul had resided in Marti- 
nique fifteen years, and received a salary sufficient to 
maintain him in comfort. Within eighteen months 
the American consulate had had two representatives. 
As soon as one is prepared to execute his duties, he is 
kicked out and room made for another. 
Knowing that the consul was from Boston, I was 
not surprised to see in his office an “Old Farmer’s 
Almanack ;” but I was greatly enlightened as to its 
uses when, one day, I saw him take it from its nail 
and gravely announce that, according to the tables for 
July, it was “time to take a drink.” As the tables in 
that almanac are prepared for the latitude of Boston, 
I wondered at the genius that could adapt them to the 
latitude of Martinique ; but it is probably owing to the 
fact that much latitude is allowed, and that there a 
drink is in order at any time. 
Through the aid of the consul, I secured a room 
and board in a private family, whose delightful 
déjeiners and suppers will long be a pleasant remem- 
brance; and may the good old mulattress who pre- 
pared them fulfil her mission for many years to come! 
She could originate savory stews and ragouts from as 
nearly nothing: as any cook it has been my misfortune 
to meet; her “ ros-bif ” was excellent; and with afew 
potatoes and a little flour and fat she would produce 
“pomme de terre a la Martinique” —as she called 
it— that would make an exile from Erin howl with 
delight. With each plate a bottle of wine and a 
little twisted loaf of bread; and after the dessert, of 
