34 DOTTINGS ON THE ROADSIDE. [Chap. III.—B. S. 
I was on board of this beautiful steamer ! There were 
all kinds of good books and periodicals, and an airy 
“hurricane deck” to sit under, and read or chat with 
the other passengers, who happened to be extremely 
agreeable. Several of them were American; and, 
fortunately, I have a knack of getting on very well 
with them, simply because I never, under any circum¬ 
stances, tread upon their rather tender national corns. 
After leaving Panama we called at Punta Arenas, 
the principal port of Costa Eica, on the Pacific, where 
one finds a rather dangerous entrance to the inner 
harbour, a good lighthouse, an abundance of oysters, 
a large supply of coffee for exportation, and, as the 
name of the place indicates, plenty of sand. Landing 
with the mails, I availed myself of the opportunity to 
see the post-office and get some Costa Eica stamps, 
which a stamp-collecting maniac told me were the 
prettiest things out. The mails were delivered in due 
form; but, after that, the bags were emptied on the 
floor, and every one had his pick, and a pick for the 
persons he said he represented. I saw a similar scram¬ 
ble at Corinto, our next port, where the principal post¬ 
man, who was going to take the mail to the interior, 
could not even read, and had to get others to spell out 
the directions for him. People may well complain 
about letters being lost in places like these, where 
newspapers seem to be regarded as public property, 
and illustrated journals scarcely ever reach their right¬ 
ful owners. 
I heard with regret that the expedition up the Eio 
Erio, a pet project of my friend Captain Pirn, organized, 
