79 



aword. " Oh, don't shut the window, Polly." — 

 "Night-air not good for massa;" and she shuts 

 the casement without mercy. I am drinking 

 orangeade, or some such liquid ; Polly walks up 

 to the table, and seizes it; " Leave that jug, Polly, 

 I am dying with thirst." — " More hurt, massa;" 

 and away go Polly and the orangeade. So that 

 I begin to fancy myself Sancho in Barataria, and 

 that Polly is the Seh'or Doctor Pedro in petti- 

 coats. 



The difference of colour, which had offended 

 Nicholas so much in Psyche's child, is a fault which 

 no mulatto will pardon ; nor can the separation of 

 castes in India be more rigidly observed, than that 

 of complexion al shades among the Creoles. My 

 black page, Cubina, is married : I told him that I 

 hoped he had married a pretty woman ; why had 

 he not married Mary Wiggins? He seemed quite 

 shocked at the very idea. " Oh, massa, me black, 

 Mary Wiggins sambo ; that not allowed." 



The dances performed to-night seldom admitted 

 more than three persons at a time : to me they ap- 

 peared to be movements entirely dictated by the 

 caprice of the moment; but I am told that there is 

 a regular figure, and that the least mistake, or a 

 single false step, is immediately noticed by the rest. 

 I could indeed sometimes fancy, that one story 

 represented an old duenna guarding a girl from 

 a lover; and another, the pursuit of a young woman 

 by two suitors, the one young and the other old ; 



