attired, good-looking, flower-decorated crowd, of some seven or eight
hundred people, all chatting and laughing, and some staring at us--but
not rudely--looked much more like a chorus of opera-singers, dressed
for their parts in some grand spectacle, than ordinary market-going
peasants. Whichever way one turned, the prospect was an animated and
attractive one. Here, beneath the shade of large, smooth, light-green
banana leaves, was a group of earnest bargainers for mysterious-looking
fish, luscious fruit, and vegetables; there, sheltered by a drooping
mango, whose rich clusters of purple and orange fruit hung in tempting
proximity to lips and hands, another little crowd was similarly
engaged. Orange-trees were evidently favourite _rendezvous_; and a row
of flower-sellers had established themselves in front of a hedge of
scarlet hibiscus and double Cape jasmine. Every vendor carried his
stock-in-trade, however small the articles composing it might be, on a
bamboo pole, across his shoulder, occasionally with rather ludicrous
effect, as, for instance, when the thick but light pole supported only
a tiny fish six inches long at one end, and two mangoes at the other.
Everybody seemed to have brought to market just what he or she
happened to have on hand, however small the quantity. The women would
have one, two, or three new-laid eggs in a leaf basket, one crab or
lobster, three or four prawns, or one little trout. Under these
circumstances, marketing for so large a party as ours was a somewhat
lengthy operation, and I was much amused in watching our _proveedor_,
as he went about collecting things by ones and twos, until he had
piled a little cart quite full, and had had it pushed off to the shady
quay.

[Illustration: Chætodon Plagmance]

We strolled about until six o'clock, at which hour the purchasers