THE CHURCH. 
235 
shadow of death hovers over the household. 
One morning Louis, the eldest of the boys, was 
talking with the others in high spirits, when he 
suddenly fell back. He lay for days unconscious, 
while every possible remedy by blistering and 
otherwise w’as tried ; but it was many weeks ere 
he was able to move, partly from the serious 
nature of his attack, and perhaps as much from 
the severe wounds caused in the efforts to re- 
store him, such wounds being most obstinate 
in healing in this climate. 
The church, monastery, and convent of Dilly 
are the only buildings in faultless repair. One 
must know the people and climate fully to com- 
prehend the patience and endurance that have 
been called forth to effect the civilising influence 
which undoubtedly rewards their efforts. 
The altars and internal decorations of the 
church are exceedingly pretty ; and but that the 
drive to morning mass was through scents and 
sounds which bear to the senses that meed of 
sweetness peculiar to the tropics— but that the 
lace-trimmed surplices of the lads who wait at 
the altar are incongruous with the bright-col- 
oured sarongs, which do not cover their bare 
black feet— but that it is a dusky native that 
creeps up the aisle to confessional, — one might 
