80 HCfiRTK ri/rruAL tovk. 



and stewed. There is no doubt that cultivation has, to a 

 certain extent, altered the quality of this vegetable, and 

 that l>oth the leaves and the root of the garden suecory are 

 'ess bitter than those of the native plant. At our inn we were 

 informed, that the plant is raised from seed every spring : the 

 tender leaves are used in salads early in the spring : the full 

 grown leaves are afterwards shorn once or twiec for cows ; 

 and the roots are considered fit for use when they are of 

 the size of small carrots or parsnips; they are scraped and 

 boiled, and eaten along with potatoes, with a sauce made 

 with butter and vinegar. We further learned, that during 

 Buonaparte's sway, when colonial produce was either 

 scarce and dear or entirely interdicted, the roots of succo- 

 ry, cut into little pieces, dried in an oven, taking care to 

 avoid burning, and afterwards ground to a powder, were 

 used by the common people as a substitute for coffee, and 

 by those in better circumstances mixed with a certain pro- 

 portion of real coffee-beans. 



Garden oftlie Capuchin Friars. 

 We had seen a Nunnery in the morning; in the after- 

 noon we paid a visit to a brotherhood of Capuchin Fri- 

 ar.. By what chance this fraternity had been able to re- 

 tain its mansion and garden during the purgation of the 

 Revolution, we had no means of learning. The Capu- 

 chins profess the contempt of money : this really seems to be 

 a poor establishment, and its poverty has perhaps formed its 

 I ( iint v. The garden is evidently vevy old, and we 

 Pound ii under the management of an antiquated gardener, 

 poorly habited, with a large hook-bladed pruning-knife ap- 

 pended to his button-hole, a dirty white apron*, and a 

 greasy fWJolleil cap on his head. lie could speak only Flc- 



• -■ inv;iri:iMv UM blue .tprnir . 



