308 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. 
again, and he hastened to say that he was really dis- 
tressed, but he had no room to spare. “He has three 
chambers,” said my friend, in English. This was 
enough. I hastened away, leaving the curé with one 
eye on me and one on the table, uttering the most 
dismal of lamentations that he could not be of ser- 
vice to me. Well, thought I, here is a brace of 
generous men to welcome a stranger to the home of 
Josephine. ‘ 
The clock in the church struck eight as we reached 
the baker’s. There I found that John had arranged 
to sleep on the floor, where I was obliged, after a 
greasy dinner, to sleep likewise. Awaking in the 
night, thirsty, I was agreeably surprised to find some 
rum and water with sugar. I found them also, next 
morning, in the bill, which, unlike my bed, was not 
low. At daylight I hastened on, anxious to escape 
from such a place. 
Later in the week I visited the little church hard 
by, and took the first picture ever made of the church 
in which the infant Josephine was baptized. Pre- 
suming that the exterior has been slightly altered 
since Josephine’s time, the present spire constructed 
and the clock inserted, it is the same structure that 
existed a century ago. On either side the doorway 
is a “flambeau-tree,” which at the time of my visit 
were scarlet with blossoms. Two bells, rung for 
Sabbath mass, are beneath a rough shed near by, the 
prevalent earthquakes forbidding they should be raised 
to the steeple. Above the clock is the image of the 
patron saint. Back of the church, stretching down to 
the seaside, is the cemetery. The interior is attrac- 
tive, the altar, as in all Catholic churches, being par- 
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