On February 12 we had reached Kingston, Jamaica, 
and the following description of the country and people is 
quoted from a letter addressed to Mrs, Holmes: 
"This is a large and airy hotel with no end of veran- 
dahs shaded by graceful palm trees which shake their plumes 
like a graceful bird as the trade wind comes in from the sea. 
We are in the city but on the shore of the bay and a few ships 
lie nearby. All of these, British, American and the rest were 
gay with bunting — the Stars and Stripes above all -- when 
we came into the harbor on Washington 1 s birthday. It seemed 
quite like home to see these things and hear the salutes ex- 
pressive of good will toward our country. But the English of 
these people is hardly better than the Spanish of Cuba. It is 
a funny Cockney dialect modified by the thick lips of the Afri- 
can. The island is black -- awfully black -- 600,000 colored 
to 14,000 white, and one sees little but Africa on the streets. 
Yesterday was market day and there were sights to be seen, I 
spent part of the forenoon kodaking in the markets. For a dozen 
blocks the streets were a mass of picturesque people -- nearly 
all women for there are nearly two women to one man on the Island 
buying and selling. From morning until night the roads to the 
country are literally crowded with the picturesque women, tall, 
barefooted and black, bearing loads upon their heads or leading 
heavily laden donkeys. There must be 10,000 of these women 
^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ® I was out seven miles yes- 
terday and the roads were full of them and some come from 20 
miles out. 
