SOME SUMMER DAYS IN MARTINIQUE, 295 
der of cakes pitches a 
small bench beneath 
the shade of a ve- 
randa and offers an 
assortment not pro- 
curable on week- 
days. She drives a 
good trade in the 
morning, as the peo- 
ple return from early 
mass; but as the sun 
gets around in the 
afternoon she leaves 
bench and cakes to 
themselves, covers 
them with a ragged 
blanket that has seen 
unwashed service for 
years, and contentedly sucking a cigar, snoozes 
quietly in the shade. She has on a white chemise, 
a man’s hat of straw, a black skirt, and a white hand- 
kerchief bound about her forehead. At three in the 
afternoon, all go to church. The universal dress is 
black coat and white pants. Here are a few costumes 
of the blacks: Black turban, black dress, cut with 
waist high up under the arms, and black shoes; an- 
other in bright colors and green shoes; again another, 
sans shoes; one with a parasol; a diminutive darky 
stalking gravely along with a dusk for parasol and 
feet thrust into yawning shoes. All wear high heels 
when dressed. Men and women pass and repass with 
huge bundles nicely balanced upon their heads. 
When it was known that I intended shooting over 
